


Season 3 Drabbles

by anthfan



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 40,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthfan/pseuds/anthfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of all drabbles written for season 3 episodes. Chapters are standalone stories and are not connected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 3x01-trailer

**A/N: It's that time again. First trailer for season 3 has been released along with the plot bunnies. 3x01 spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!**

**Follow, Favorite, Enjoy. And let me know what you think!**

He'd had easy for twenty-two years. Every moment of his life until the Gambit had gone down had been literally handed to him on a silver platter. And then the storm had come and he'd drowned in it. And nothing was easy after that.

After five years of blood and death and unspeakable things he knew he didn't deserve easy, he didn't deserve good. He was a tool, a weapon. He'd been honed by an Australian mercenary and a team of Chinese martial arts experts, and an American agent to become a machine. When he'd returned to Starling he knew it was time and he thought he could tow the line. He thought he'd be able to keep his head down, focused on his mission.

A notebook and the names it contained. Simple.

Then there was a busted laptop, and a bodyguard turned brother, another archer and a sister too far down the rabbit hole.

And then there was Felicity Smoak.

She blew his mission right out of the water. Turned his world upside down and challenged him right from the start, leaving him reeling and rethinking and wondering if he could ever be something else.

She was the first one that called him hero, that believed in something beyond a battered book full of names. She put on his mask and saw behind it. She slipped her way in, quiet and loud all at once until he couldn't blink without seeing her.

Then he used her as bait to take down the last man he thought could be alive. And he loved. The machine he'd been turned into fell apart like scrap metal in a junkyard, nothing more than detritus covered in rust. In it's wake was Oliver Queen, the man he'd never knew he could be again.

She found him. She'd honed this version. But with dimples, and gentle touches, and head tilts that said 'do you really expect me to believe that', instead of pain and torture. She made him smile, and want, and believe.

And now she lay before him bleeding and silent because he thought for a few moments that he could have easy again.

He was wrong.


	2. 3x01-Explosion

**A/N: Another one! Spoilers for 3x01 ahead! You've been warned!**

This was all new territory for both of them. He couldn't ever remember being nervous on a date before and she didn't quite know how to spend time with him when there weren't federal databases that needed to be hacked. But they both muddled through. Halfway through their meal he slipped her phone from her hand and assured her that Digg and Roy were fine without them for a few hours. After that things had turned around.

When he'd asked if she wanted to go back to his place he just meant for a glass of wine and a quiet atmosphere, but her cheeks had filled with color with the other implications it could have meant and then he was the one stammering and saying he didn't mean it  _like that._

She'd just held her clutch tighter and stepped a little closer to look up at him through her lashes and asked "Why not?"

His heart actually flipped and he gulped. She didn't miss a thing and lifted an extra inch on her toes to press her lips just above his collar.

He felt the mark of her kiss on his skin all the way back to his new place. Her left hand was firmly ensconced in his right and he didn't let it go until he pulled into the driveway of the secluded house on a bluff he'd bought three months earlier.

His eyes kept darting to hers as they made their way up the steps. She was smiling almost constantly and he found he was too.

The overly modern floor plan was as different from the mansion as one could get and he found he liked it. It was simple, easy, and offered him unobstructed views of almost the entire ground floor which put him at ease.

She wandered into the living area, shedding her coat and dropping it across the back of the couch along with her bag and the tie he'd removed as soon as they'd left the restaurant as he headed into the kitchen.

"Wine alright?" he asked and she hummed her agreement,

A short laugh from her made him raise his head and look over, taking his attention away from the bottle he was preparing to open.

"What's so funny?"

She turned and pointed to the glass topped coffee table in the middle of the room, "I was laughing at your presumption that I'd end up back here tonight. Were you feeling lucky, Mr. Queen?"

In the center of the table was a present; silver wrapping with a large green bow atop it, a folded piece of paper hanging off the front.

He hadn't bought her a present.

Time seemed to slow as his thoughts spun from confusion to fear in the space of a second, but it was a second too long.

He remembered watching the way her dress rode up the back as she bent over to flip up the card to read the inside.

He remembered vaulting over the counter, clearing the wine glasses but not the bottle.

He remembered hearing it crash to the floor behind him.

He remembered not being able to read what the note said but clearly seeing who it was from. The flowing script of the signature scrawled out ' _Vertigo'._

He remembered the flash of heat and sound and light as he was blown backwards just as his fingers closed around her arm.

There was blackness and then confusion. His ears rung, leaving him disoriented and dizzy as he blinked his eyes rapidly, the smoke that filled the room burning them fiercely. Then red filled his vision and he found himself reaching for her. But the red wasn't from her dress. It was from the blood that ran down the side of her face, disappearing into her dress and staining her hair.

Felicity lay crumpled at his side, one of his legs thrown over hers and she wasn't moving.

Gritting his teeth he pushed up on one arm and brushed now matted hair out of her face, fingers streaking through black soot that marred her skin. He was shaking as he felt for her pulse and collapsed forward, coming to rest against her shoulder when he found it.

The smoke was getting thicker and some distant part of his brain knew he had to get her out. With one arm wrapped around her middle he stayed low and began to pull her away from the worst of the damage. A coughing fit overtook him when they reached the foyer and his knees cracked against the marble as he fell to the floor.

White spots dancing in his vision he barely had the presence of mind to pull his phone from his pocket. As the world began to go dark he didn't remember calling Digg. All he remembered was that he'd failed to keep her safe.

He woke up in the back of the van to Digg shouting instructions at Roy, who had Felicity sprawled across his lap, a towel pressed to her head.

"Felicity!" his voice was rough and hoarse, and it made his lungs burn but it didn't keep him from throwing himself upright and reaching for her.

"Welcome back, boss," Roy said tersely, barely taking his eyes off of Felicity,

"Digg?" he needed to know. He had to know how bad it was, because it looked bad and she had to be okay. He found her pulse again, letting the backs of his knuckles trail across his cheek, not even noticing he had an audience.

"She'll be alright, Oliver. Just looks like some glass from the table hit her and the force of the blast knocked her out," Digg answered,

"What the hell happened?" Roy asked and was immediately reprimanded by Digg,

"Not now, we'll deal with that later,"

"But that note-"

"Not. Now. Harper!" Digg bit out in a growl as he pulled up outside the back entrance to the lair and Oliver was too focused on Felicity to ask what he was talking about.

When the back doors opened Oliver slid out on unsteady legs but ignored it all as he turned back and held out his arms. Roy only shifted his eyes over to Digg for a second before he sighed heavily and handed her over.

He felt hands on his back as he took the first halting steps and then it was all a blur until he placed her on the table. The table she was never supposed to be on because she was never supposed to be hurt.

White noise filled his head as he braced his hands on the edge and tried to keep himself upright. He never wanted this for her.

Digg and Roy's voices sounded like they were coming at him from underwater, low and muted and neither of them asked him to move, just worked around him.

Digg was starting an I.V in her left hand when Oliver looked down and saw her earring was missing. Suddenly it was the only thing that mattered.

"Her earring's gone," he mumbled, barely audible, but they'd heard him and froze,

"Oliver-"

"Her earring's gone," he repeated as if confused. It had been there earlier. He'd remembered how it had caught the candlelight at the restaurant as she'd laughed about something. They'd danced around the smooth column of her neck, making him look at the delicate expanse of skin there and wonder if he'd get to taste it later.

"It's Felicity boss, she's got a hundred pair," Roy's words were meant to be reassuring but they sent a flare of anger up his spine and he lifted enraged eyes to the kid across the table who had the good sense to step back.

"Oliver, she's got another wound to her abdomen, probably a piece of glass that got dislodged."

He nodded with a lump in his throat and watched dazed as Digg lifted scissors to the bottom hem of her dress.

As the dress was cut off of her he was reminded of how it unzipped in the back. All the way down. It was the first thing he'd noticed when she'd turned around to grab her bag when he'd picked her up at her place and he couldn't help but think of how easy it would be to rid her of the garment.

When a matching red lace bra and underwear set came into view he only had a moment to wonder if she'd chosen them with him in mind, if she'd wondered whether he'd get to see them that night. Whatever had been her intention he knew she'd hadn't thought he'd see them like this.

Roy stood by with a blanket that Digg used to cover her as best he could and still access her injury.

Oliver let his mind go blank. He knew he should be helping. He knew he should be doing something. But all he could seem to do was stand there staring down at her.

His head slowly rose when he heard Digg tell Roy to grab a suture kit. "Just a few stitches, not as bad as it looks,"

"Another scar," he muttered, and turned back, unable to look away from the blood that was now drying on her face.

He finally reacted when Roy began to clean her off with a wet cloth. He took it from the kid without a word. The wound in her hairline was small and had already begun to clot and even though every pass across her skin erased the blood and soot he knew he'd see it vividly and in full detail every time he shut his eyes.

It was later when things were supposed to be getting better that it all went to hell.

She'd been cleaned and patched up, although there was still an oxygen mask on her face and an I.V running into her hand. Oliver hadn't moved from her side. Digg had eventually pushed a chair beneath him and forced him to sit while he removed his ruined jacket and cleaned the wounds in his back he didn't even know were there. Roy was unnaturally quiet, just silently handed him wipes to clean up his hands and the grey hoodie to slip on as they waited for her to wake up.

Then he handed him a charred piece of paper and there was an explosion of noise when Digg erupted.

"He needed to know!" Roy roared back, but retreated to the other side of the table as if Felicity could still offer him some form of protection even though she was unconscious.

It was the paper that had been taped to the bomb masquerading as present he realized as his stomach dropped. The front said ' _To: Felicity'_ and what was written inside made his blood run cold.

' _Wishing you an EXPLOSIVE end to your first date. Tell the Arrow I'll be seeing him soon~ Vertigo'_

He handed the paper behind him, not even noticing if Digg took it or if it fell from his hand.

Then he stared at the woman before him and for took her hand in his.

They'd been so close.

But he wouldn't risk her life, not for something as insignificant as his happiness.

What made him cover his eyes and press hard against the hot sting of tears was how he knew she'd understand. She'd look up at him with a wide, hurting gaze and give him a sad smile and nothing else would have to be said.

He thought he could be happy. With her.

He'd always been a fool.


	3. 3x01-The Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers for 3x01! Just a reminder this is a collection of stories I will be adding to throughout the 3rd season. Each chapter is separate and stands alone.
> 
> That being said...theres a chance this one will get a follow up but if that does happen I'll post it as it's own story. :)
> 
> If you've read the first two drabbles for this season then you know they were angst heavy. I owed you a little something different.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Dinner had gone well. Really well. She was still more than a little surprised by that fact. Sure there had been some awkwardness at first on both their parts, but it was just Oliver.

Just Oliver. That had multiple meanings and she was aware of each and every one of them.

He'd opened up to her; willingly shared a secret from his past she hadn't known before. It had been shocking but he said he didn't want to move forward without her knowing everything. So she'd sat back and listened.

Eventually she offered up some secrets of her own and he'd been just as attentive and supportive as she knew he would be.

The food was fabulous, the wine even better, and as they creeped closer and closer to dessert there were more smiles and lingering looks, even if her nerves were beginning to make themselves known.

Which was why they weren't even out the door when she found herself asking if he wanted to go back to her place.

He'd paused, door held open a few seconds too long before he smiled and nodded. She ducked her head and hid behind a fall of hair for a moment and when she looked up he'd offered her his arm. She took it without pause as they walked slowly in unspoken agreement, as if they both wanted to drag out the night as long as possible.

She was nervous when they arrived at her townhouse, the key refusing to cooperate at first. And then he'd spun her around, threaded a hand through her hair to cup her head and kissed her.

The keys fell to the ground forgotten as her toes curled in her heels. She pressed into him, moaning when she felt his tongue glide along the seam of her lips seeking entrance. He tasted like chocolate and wine and when she stroked her tongue against his, fingers dig into her hip in response.

She was left lightheaded and her heart was beating much too fast when he pulled back.

"Thought maybe we should get that out of the way,"

She could only nod her agreement, barely noticing when he leaned down to pick up the keys and dropped them into her hand. Hands that were no longer shaking she was forced to acknowledge as she unlocked the door in one try and moved to punch in her security code.

Calm, collected, sure of himself Oliver Queen was going to be the death of her.

Felicity blew out a long, controlled breath as she made her way through the foyer and into the dark kitchen. The soft snick of the door closing let her know he was right behind her and she took her time setting her clutch on the counter and slipping her heels off to join a pile of others that had yet to make it to her closet.

"I like your place, it's very you," he said, far closer than she expected and when she turned and pressed into the slab of granite at her back she hissed at the unexpected cold and arched away. She didn't miss the way his eyes dropped to her chest or how much taller he was than her now.

The air seemed to still between them and some distant part of her brain told her she was licking her lips far too much and she should stop but somehow the command never actually made it to her mouth.

"Wine! We should have some more. I'll get it, you can go...sit." she didn't wait to see if he listened, just pivoted on her heel and made her way to the wine rack tucked into the corner, glasses hanging under the cabinets.

They'd had an amazing night, and he'd already kissed her so she didn't know why her stomach was constantly flipping or why her pulse was so fast.

By the time she'd selected the bottle and poured two glasses she had some semblance of control. She took a hefty swallow and turned to find him still in the kitchen casually leaning against the doorway, one hand in his pocket.

He'd never left.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath and took another drink, this one longer with her eyes locked on his.

With smooth, cat-like grace he effortlessly pushed off the wall and made his way towards her, taking the glasses from her hands and sitting them down on the center island without a word.

"I'm going to need that." she protested but he just smiled down at her and dropped his hand to span her waist, fingers quietly playing with the small peplum flair.

"Have I told you how much I enjoyed tonight? And how gorgeous you look,"

"Um, you did mention one of those things when you picked me up," somehow even though he was now closer her nerves began to dissipate, much like they had after he kissed her,

"Red is definitely your color,"

"Not green?" she asked automatically and froze when she saw his eyes darken, and felt him tug her towards him just a little bit.

"Wear green on our third date,"

"Oh, there's going to be a third date is there? You're so sure?" she couldn't help tease, delighting in the way his eyes lit up in response,

"Isn't there a third date rule, or is that not done anymore?"

"I don't think you have ever abided by any rules when it came to dating." she retorted, "And the statute of limitations of you not knowing things because of your time away has probably expired."

Then her eyes went wide and her mind went blank when she realized exactly what he meant by third dates, and rules, and the significance of her wearing green.

He smiled proudly, more of a smirk if she was honest and she knew there was a flush creeping up her neck.

She cleared her throat and swallowed hard while he waited patiently, although the way his fingers continued to draw small abstract designs on her hip was very distracting.

"But this dress…does it come in green, because...the zipper…" he trailed off purposely and she threw him a mock surprised look,

"Oh, you noticed that did you," she said as she turned and pretended to look over her own shoulder, the hand at her waist following across her lower back as she did.

"I notice a lot,"

Her stomach flipped at the low, slow way he said it and her momentary bravado failed. His hand tightened not allowing her to turn back and her breath caught when he swept her hair to the side to lay over one shoulder.

"Does this unzip from the top or the bottom?"

"Um...either I think,"

"That's very...helpful,"

One finger followed the line of the straps, trailing along the spaces where her skin was left bare making her shiver. He made his way from her left shoulder to the center of her back and then up towards her right. However, he never made it all the way and when he stepped closer and ran his thumb around a particular spot she almost swayed as she realized he was focused on her scar.

She wasn't expecting to feel the hot touch of his mouth on her flesh. The groan that came from low in her throat was unexpected. Her hand flailed out to grab the counter for support as he slid a hand around her waist to splay over her middle.

But she didn't need the counter for long. She was grateful for his arms around her as he turned her a split second before his mouth dropped to hers.

This kiss was different than the one they'd shared on her doorstep. This left her heart flipping, and sparks of electricity shooting down her spine and straight to her core. She moaned into his mouth and heard him reply in kind when she slid her hands up his chest.

They were both panting when they broke apart and her eyes fluttered shut when he ran his thumb along her lower lip.

"I should go," he murmured, but his hands kept moving and the way he held her made her think he didn't actually want to leave.

"You don't have to, you know," she was breathless and flustered and would have let him follow her to her bedroom in an instant.

His head bowed to meet hers and she felt his struggle, "I just want to do this with you and I want to do it right," he whispered before brushing a hot kiss across her temple.

"Okay," she replied, still dizzy from his kisses and the knowledge that this was actually happening.

She let her fingers scrape through his stubble and into his hair before she pulled back to look at him, "Third date though. I'll be the one wearing green,"

"Maybe I will too,"

An image of him in his green leathers, her in a green dress as he pressed her into a concrete pillar in the lair assaulted her mind and she audibly gasped as a swirl of desire struck her hard and fast.

She held his hand, fingers entwined until they reached her door where he told her goodnight. Her lips still burned from their final kiss, and as she watched him walk towards his car she knew they were both thinking about that third date.


	4. 3x01-Always Another Way

**A/N: Just a reminder chapters are standalone. Spoilers for 3x01.**

**This is me working out my speculation for the importance of the new Count, Vertigo in 3x01 and the catalyst I think he's going to be to keeping these two beautiful idiots apart the majority of the season.**

**Angst ahead. You've been warned.**

**Let me know what you think!**

 

 

“This isn’t going to work,”

 

The words tasted like dust in his mouth and the hurt gasp that escaped her lips cut him like a knife.

 

“Oliver--” she began, voice broken and tired and as much as he knew she needed to rest he had to do it then. It couldn’t wait.

 

“This isn’t going to work even though I wish it could,”

 

“Oh,”

 

“Last year I swore to do things different, for Tommy and because I wanted to be better,”

 

“And you did,” she sounded confused, and wounded.

 

“Except for the Count,” he raised his eyes then and held hers, watching with his heart breaking as she blinked rapidly and failed to keep her tears at bay,

 

“But...you said...you said there was no choice,” the single step she took away from him made him freeze,

 

“There wasn’t. That was the problem,”

 

The words float for a second between them before their weightiness defies gravity and they plummet heavy, and full. That time her eyes went wide, mouth falling open but nothing came out.

 

“I killed for you. Because I love you and there will never be a choice. I will always choose you.” and he knew it, in his soul. No regrets.

 

The understanding that slowly began to fill her face was almost his undoing.

 

“You were targeted because you were with me. Someone tried to hurt  you  to get to me. And I can’t ever allow that to happen again,” he bit off, the rage he’d felt earlier threatening to consume him once again and that’s how he knew he had to do this even if it would be the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I would have killed Vertigo tonight. I wanted to. I still do. And that scares me.”

 

Her head was shaking though and he could already hear her arguments, already hear how she would try to convince him otherwise.

 

In a flash he’d moved, taking her by the arms and pulling her flush against him as he towered over her. “No! I would have torn him apart. I would have done things to him that would have made you sick. You think you know all of me but you don’t and there is a reason for that!” the anger, and desperation, and dark, hollow, need he had for her to understand left him trembling, “Anyone who tries to kill you is dead. And if I go down that road again I may never come back,”

 

Both of them breathed in ragged gasps as he loosened his hold and let his forehead fall to meet hers, hot tears burning his eyes.

 

“There’s always another way,” she said weakly,

 

“Not with you, never with you,”

 

He held her as she cried and mourned what couldn’t be. It was her cool hand against his cheek that made him pull back and look at her.

 

“I know you think this is the only option, but maybe one day we’ll find another way,” her ever present hopefulness filled his chest and not for the first time he wondered how he’d ever been so lucky to have her in his life.

 

But he couldn’t agree with her.

 

 


	5. 3x01-Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Major spoilers for 3x01! Do not read if you don't want to know!
> 
>  
> 
> Very short, very quick drabble based on the only two seconds that mattered from the new promo. Enjoy!!

**  
  
**

“First babies can take over twenty four hours of labor before they arrive. I looked that up after I found out Lyla was pregnant. Do you think it’ll take that long? I mean both her parents are military and her mother is practically running a top secret government agency, and we all know what a stickler Digg is to the schedule. Punctuality should be her middle name.” Felicity stopped for a breath and then scrunched her nose, ignoring just how close Oliver was to her. His hand was even on her arm. “You don’t think they’ll name her ‘Punctuality’ do you? That would be a terrible name. I thought they were going to name her after Lyla’s grandmother or--.”

The hand at her arm had slid around to her lower back and was putting soft but firm pressure there to the point that she had to either shift forward or push against him. As if they had minds of their own her feet inched closer until she could feel the rough material of his jeans against her bare legs.

He was staring down at her with a look of loving bemusement that made his eyes light up. The air in her lungs caught at the sight because Oliver looked happy. Truly and genuinely happy.

When his hands found their familiar spot at her elbows she gulped and gave him a small smile, “That’s a lot of pressure though. Naming someone. They’re stuck with that for the rest of their  lives, and that could…” she trailed off because somehow, for some reason she wasn’t truly comprehending his palms now cupped her face.

She was sure her heart had stopped, or maybe it was going so fast she couldn’t tell one beat from another.

Oliver leaned in, thumbs gently brushing over her cheeks, “Felicity, you’re going to need to stop talking now,” he said so low, and so tenderly her heart flipped,

“I...I am?” she managed to gasp out,

He smiled then, the one he saved for her, “I can’t kiss you if you’re talking,”

Her last conscious thought was, ‘Oh’.

**  
  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Quick fun little thing based off the new trailer for season 3. Once I noticed those kids hanging around at Felicity's new job I had to write this. Spoilers for 3x01! Enjoy, and drop me a line letting me know what you think!**

"John, there's an illegal shipment of RPGs headed your way,"

"I'm on it,"

She typed faster, eyes scanning the  _one_  monitor before her as her frustration levels grew. It was a simple op, one they'd done dozens of times before but she'd never had to guide her team from the work room of Tech Village of all places.

It didn't help that the kids were back again. They'd walked in ten minutes after her shift had started and she half wondered if they'd somehow learned her work schedule.

The group of four boys were as awkward and nerdy and young as they could possibly be. They'd stammer through simple tech questions that she knew they could answer themselves and she'd patiently played along because unfortunately Oliver still hadn't regained Queen Consolidated and she needed to pay her rent on time. Part of her felt for them and she thought it was sweet that they were so enamoured with her they kept finding excuses to come in when she was there.

However, that night they'd sunk to a new low. She'd actually watched on the security cameras as they'd stomped all over a perfectly good tablet on the sidewalk outside the store before they'd brought it in and asked if she could fix it.

Dealing with teenage crushes was not how she wanted to be spending her time. Not when Oliver was taking her out that night.

Every time she thought about it her stomach danced and her heart flipped. Which was why she'd used her loud voice on the boys and told them to wait at the counter and not move while she went to look for something. In reality she knew they'd do whatever she told them to and she needed to get Oliver and the team through their mission as quickly and safely as possible so she could get out of there and go on their date.

Whenever she'd look over her shoulder the boys were right where she'd left them, craning their necks for a glimpse of her and she knew she'd have to get them out there soon or risk them delaying her leaving.

So focused on the mission and the rest of the night she almost missed Oliver's next words.

"Do you like Italian?"

"What?"

"For tonight? You like Italian right? Everyone likes Italian."

Her lips curled for a second as she heard his eager, almost nervous tone, "Oliver you're in the middle of a high speed chase!"

"I'm multitasking,"

She didn't have to see him to know exactly which grin was on his face at that moment and it sent a flush of heat straight through her.

"Just...focus, please,"

"But you never told me if you liked Italian,"

"Oh for the love of god, Barbie tell the man you like Italian so he'll shut up about it!" Roy roared,

"I second that," Digg supplied drolly and she tried to sputter out a response,

"Fine, yes, Italian sounds great, but you'd better not ask me to make the reservation, I'm no longer your EA,"

He chuckled, "I wouldn't dream of it," then in an instant his entire demeanor had shifted, "I've got eyes on them, Arsenal, take the west side."

"Two heat signatures just entered the building where you are and...three more are about to go in," she added as she swapped between feeds,

"We really need to plan these on my days off," she muttered under her breath,

There was a grunt and the sound of metal scraping making her wince, "I'll keep that in mind," Oliver said through the voice distorter,

"Be careful," she whispered even though there was no need and flicked her eyes back to the counter to see with a sigh the boys hadn't given up and left,

Twenty minutes later Felicity was lecturing her misguided admirers about how to properly take care of their tablet while she listened to the team finish up the mission successfully. She thought maybe talking to the boys like they were children could be a helpful tactic to getting them to leave her alone but they seemed to be in rapt attention while she talked, nodding mutely and agreeing to everything she said.

Somehow she'd gotten so distracted in trying everything she could to get the boys to realize they didn't have a shot that she'd missed when Oliver and the others headed back to the lair. She also missed when he'd been silent for longer than usual.

The bravest of the crew leaning all over her counter cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses before his buddy gave him a not so subtle elbow. "Could you...um...that is...maybe you should send it a text message so we know it works,"

However, before she could reply a deep, slightly sinister, slight amused voice she knew all too well came from her left.

"Nice try gentlemen, but you're not getting her number."

It was Oliver and he had his shit eating grin going at full force with just enough teeth showing to make the boys audibly gulp.

"Oliver! What are you doing here?" she tapped her earpiece, wondering if it was faulty, "I get off in twenty minutes and then I have exactly two hours to get ready before we go out. For Italian apparently,"

"I decided I couldn't wait to see you," this time his smile was just for her and she knew her cheeks were going pink,

"But apparently I've interrupted," his tone was leading and he turned that wolfish look back on the boys who looked like they didn't know whether to freeze or run,

"Oliver," she said warningly, "They're harmless, they're in here all the time,"

His brows lifted and he shifted closer, bracing his arms on the counter as he leaned on it in direct imitation of how the boys had been standing. He appeared to be relaxed but she knew better.

"All the time? Is that so?" slowly he flexed his powerful forearms, shirt rolled up to just below his elbows which allowed for an unencumbered view of the muscles rippling beneath the skin, "Seems to me that intelligent young men such as yourselves could probably fix most computer problems on your own. There couldn't possibly be another reason why you're in here so much, could there?"

His question sounded innocent but the boys couldn't take their eyes off his arms. She saw one of them with his lips moving silently and she had a sneaking suspicion he was calculating the force of Oliver's grip and how much psi his hands could generate.

They didn't say another word, just grabbed their busted tablet and scurried as fast as they could for the door.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked, folding her arms across her middle.

"They were harassing you," he countered as he stood and watched through the window as their car peeled from the parking lot,

"If I couldn't handle four high school aged nerds I'd have never survived M.I.T." her tone held just enough mystery that Oliver's head whipped back to look at her,

"What does that mean?"

A sly smile crept across her face, "I don't know Mr. Queen, maybe tonight is the sort of night where secrets are revealed."

"I look forward to it,"


	7. 3x01-post ep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers if you haven't seen 3x01  
> Yes. This is angsty. How could it not be.  
> Enjoy!

She’d known it was coming.

She’d known since they stood on the steps outside of Queen Consolidated earlier that day. Hearing him say those damning words to John in the foundry later hadn’t been necessary.

So when they’d walked out of the hospital room and he spoke the phrase she knew was their death knell she couldn’t help but try and fight it even though she knew she’d already lost.

Then he’d said the one thing that haunted her.

_maybe._

And it wasn’t fair. ‘Maybe’ meant hope. ‘Maybe’ meant someday. ‘Maybe’ meant it could be possible.

She couldn’t live with that sort of liminality, not with him, not with what they did.

She knew it would break his heart as much as it would break hers when she demanded that he say never. But even if it wasn’t true, even if it was a front it would be something definitive, something she could cling to and use as she tried to move past.

Felicity forgot one very important thing however. And when his lips stole her breath she remembered.

Oliver had never been able to lie to her.

For one brief beautiful second none of it mattered. All she knew was him.

She knew what it was like to be loved by Oliver Queen.

It was when their breaths mingled, lips still brushing against one another, both of them unwilling to part that it all rushed back and her heart twisted in grief.

He couldn’t give her what she needed because he couldn’t give himself what he wanted.

They were stuck in a purgatory of their own making.

She pulled back, pulled away, leaving him with empty hands as her traitorous fingers stole up to cover her lips because they were the only part of her that was still warm.

By the time she got to her car she was numb. She didn’t remember driving home. Didn’t remember unlocking her door or placing her bag and coat on her couch.

She did remember breaking down in the shower, finally allowing herself that small window of time in which to grieve. His final words were burned into her soul, _‘Don’t ask me to say I don’t love you’_

It left her breathless and made her heart clench every time she recalled how he’d sounded. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to move on, a part of her would always hold on to that hope, that possibility, even when it hurt.

She slept fitfully and finally gave up around five. Dressed and ready for a job she didn’t actually have, she was sitting hollowly on her couch when the phone rang.

Oliver.

With shaking fingers she answered, not knowing what she’d hear.

However, everything that had happened between them vanished when she heard his rough, ragged breaths and the pain in his voice.

_“It’s Sara.”_

**  
  
**


	8. 3x02-Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Because Detective Lance had a right to know, and Felicity has always told the hard truths.

Felicity was nervous as she waited by the entrance to the cemetery, two cups of lukewarm coffee clutched in her cold hands as she shifted from one foot to the other in an attempt to bring circulation back to her frozen feet.

He pulled to the curb ten minutes late, brows already drawn in concern and confusion. He’d undoubtedly recognized the address she’d texted him, asking her to meet him there that afternoon and had nothing but questions.

But when he approached, collar of his overcoat flipped up, hands shoved deep in his pockets he didn’t say a word and she gulped, wondering for the hundredth time if she was making the right decision.

Her silence stretched on and finally he cocked his head and looked down at her, “Ms. Smoak, I’ve never known for you to be at a loss for words. I assume one of these is for me?”

He slid one of the cups from her and took a sip, grimacing at the taste and before she could protest plucked the other one from her as well to toss in a nearby trashcan.

“Now that we’re past that, how ‘bout you tell me why you brought me here.”

His voice was even but she could hear the underlying strain and saw the way his eyes kept flicking over her right shoulder in the direction of Sara’s grave.

“There’s something I need to show you, Detective,” she said as calmly as she could manage and before she could second guess herself she turned and began to walk, confident he’d follow.

In the past month Felicity had found herself visiting every few days and then suddenly one day a bench had appeared. She knew it had been Oliver’s doing but she never mentioned it and neither did he. She’d never run into him but she knew by the fresh flowers he’d been there as well.

Lance’s breath caught when he saw the bench, Felicity’s eyes immediately filling with tears at the pain she was about to cause him. He didn’t say a word as they approached but she could feel the mounting dread and she wondered if part of him didn’t already know.

They sat side by side, staring at the headstone with the right name, but the wrong date.

“Why are we here, Ms. Smoak?” his words were hollow, causing a fist to tighten around her heart because _he knew,_ he knew what had happened, but he was going to make her say it. Empirical evidence trumped everything.

“We’re here because...because you had a right to know.” she said sadly, “And I’m...I’m so so sorry.”

The shuddering, raw exhale he made tore at her gut, tears dripping freely down her cheeks.

“She’s...my baby girl...she’s really there now, isn’t she?”

All she could do was nod her head, throat too clogged to speak.

“Oh god,”

He sucked in a breath, his pain palpable and as much as she wanted to offer him comfort she didn’t know how.

“Oh, Sara…” his mournful cry broke her, hot splashes coating the inside of her glasses but she didn’t need to see. She knew exactly what her friend’s grave looked like.

“How long?”

“A month.”

“A month?! She’s been here a month and no one saw fit to tell me!” she felt him leap to his feet and her head whipped to the right to see him pacing angrily in front of her, eyes never leaving the grave.

“It...it wasn’t my place to tell.” she stammered.

“Well you’re telling me now, aren’t you?” he replied angrily.

“Because you had a right to know! And I couldn’t keep doing this! I couldn’t keep coming here to talk to her and tell her what we were doing and know that you had no idea! I’ve had people walk out of my life and never return. The unknown is torture and I couldn’t...I couldn’t let you keep thinking she was alive.”

She didn’t know when she’d stood, just that she was only a few feet away as he turned hurt, wet eyes on her.

“Laurel? She knows?”

Felicity just bit her lip and dipped her chin, watching as he rubbed both hands over his closely shaved head and then scrubbed them across his face.

“She was worried...about your health...she--” but she didn’t know what else to say, she’d never agreed with Laurel’s reasoning.

He muttered something under his breath and moved closer, dropping to one knee to grip the headstone tight.

“I knew...I knew when she went off on that boat she wasn’t coming back to me. I got one miracle but I knew if she left again…”

“She was a hero,” Felicity said fiercely, “I know I didn’t know her very long but I loved her.”

He wiped a hand across his face and she saw his head bow, “Who did it?”

“We don’t know yet. We thought it was Lacroix but...it wasn’t.” this was the part she’d dreaded the most; telling him they hadn’t caught her killer.

After that he was silent and after a few minutes she moved backwards to sink onto the bench, not knowing if she should leave him to mourn or stay.

When he finally did rise he looked liked he’d aged ten years and a spike of fear ran through her, wondering if Laurel’s concern hadn’t been proven true.

“Thank you,” he said low and quiet before walking past her without looking back.

Felicity waited until she knew her numb legs could hold her and made her way back to the lair, still unsure of how she’d tell Oliver and more importantly, Laurel what she’d done.

With her stomach in knots she shakily descended the stairs to find the space empty. Grateful, she almost fell into her chair and tried to keep busy.

Three hours later the sharp metallic bang of the upper door crashing off the wall made her jump and she instantly knew what was about to happen.

“How dare you!” Laurel’s enraged voice filled the lair and Felicity shrank, shoulders dipping down for a second before she slowly turned in her chair to face her. “It was not your place! You had no right to tell him! That was my decision as the only family he has left! How dare you!”

She was furious. Red faced, tear streaked, eyes blazing with righteous anger she’d never quite quelled since Sara’s death.

“Laurel...I--”

“No! I don’t care what you have to say. You had no right!”

“He needed to know, Laurel. He was her father--”

“He’s my father too!” she screeched,

“I’m sorry I upset you,”

“You upset him! The man who barely survived earlier this year and takes daily medication to stay alive. That’s who you told that his daughter was dead. And if anything happens to him his blood is on your hands!”

Felicity gasped, stunned at her words, guilt rising within her.

“That’s enough, Laurel.”

Oliver’s voice came from the shadows and both women spun to see him emerge from the darkness.

“No! Don’t you come to her defense, Ollie!” she spat, finger pointed his direction.

“Laurel...I know you think you were protecting him.”

“Yes, because I have to. Someone has to!” she stated angrily, whipping her head back to rage at Felicity again, “And you...sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You need to learn how to stay out of things that don’t concern you.” it was the hateful, bitter tone that made Felicity gasp. She’d thought for awhile that she and Laurel might be able to become friends, but she was seeing the truth now.

Oliver took two more steps forward until he was between the two of them. She could see the long, tense line of his back, the way two fingers rubbed his thumb before he spoke. “She did the right thing. She did what you should have done a month ago, like I told you.”

Laurel scoffed, angrily brushing away tears, “Of course you take her side. God forbid I get anyone anymore.” she spun and had made it to the bottom of the stairs before she turned and locked her flashing eyes on Felicity, “I hope you’re happy.”

She didn’t know what to say as she sat there stunned and hurt even though she’d known how Laurel was going to react.

“Thank you,” he rasped and she stared at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“You did what she couldn’t do...what I couldn’t do. But it needed to be done.” and when he turned her heart seized in her chest because his eyes...suddenly they weren’t talking about Quentin.

It had been a month of careful conversations, of not getting too close, of finding their new normal and she’d hated every second.

She’d done what she had to. It didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. It didn’t mean she didn’t wonder every day if she’d done the right thing. But he’d left her no choice. She loved him too much to let him drag her down with him and destroy any chance they had. She’d be on the other side though if he ever decided to join her, but it was up to him to leave the darkness behind.

There were glimmers though. Not enough to convince her yet. Not enough for her to say maybe because she couldn’t live on that. But she thought she saw it when John brought baby Sara around. Just a glimpse.

“The bench...its nice,” she said in reply and he looked honestly surprised, as if he hadn’t thought she’d notice. “I go see her on Thursdays during lunch.”

The invitation was out before she knew what she was offering and his tight, controlled nod let her know he probably had been aware of that all along.

Silently she gathered her things and left, resisting the urge to run her hand along his arm as she brushed by him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later she stopped by the same deli she always did and grabbed a salad before walking to the cemetery. It was cool but sunny and she wasn’t hurt when the bench sat empty. As she ate, she talked, telling Sara how angry Laurel had been, how she hadn’t been back to the lair since that night, but how the Detective had brought her a coffee that morning to make up for the one he’d thrown away and she knew that regardless of how things turned out with her and Laurel, he at least didn’t blame her.

She’d already packed her trash away and was enjoying the warmth of the sun on her bare legs when the space next to her was suddenly filled. The breath caught in her lungs because she knew without turning that it was Oliver.

He didn’t say a word, and neither did she. And when he reached over to take her hand the knot around her heart loosened just a bit.

**  
  
**


	9. 3x03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Missing scene I felt was needed. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

The boys had only been gone three days, sixty eight hours to be precise, but she’d felt their absence even if there were moments where it seemed like they had never left. The surreal experience of trying to field multiple phone calls with her brand new boss standing only a few feet away was something she hoped not to have to repeat.

Keeping busy with recovering data from the hard drive she was technically responsible for destroying had been helpful, but every time her thoughts strayed they went to Oliver.

Being in his office, their office, now her office meant that everywhere she looked she could still feel his presence. So much had happened within those glass walls, things she’d never forget and things she wished she could.

Jerry had dropped a pitcher of water five minutes after she’d arrived her second day. She had only just made her way to her desk when the sound of glass shattering reverberated off the marble floors.

She froze, panic slicing through her as she was caught up in the memories. The boardroom being shot up. Oliver grabbing her as they jumped through the window. The feel of the Count’s hands as they squeezed her shoulders right before he shot Oliver.

By the time she came back to herself with wobbly knees and a pounding heart Jerry was apologizing repeatedly as he mopped up the mess, none the wiser to her momentary flashback.

After lunch she’d walked off the elevator, distracted by looking up the information Digg had requested on her tablet and gone straight to her old desk. That had resulted in an awkward exchange with her new EA that she hoped would never happen again.

But no matter how much she told herself this was good for her and her career and maybe even her heart she still couldn’t help but look for Oliver every time she peered through the glass.

They’d barely had a chance to be alone since he’d kissed her and told her in the most backwards way ever that he loved her but they couldn’t be together. She’d only had a few hours to even attempt to process what had happened before they’d learned Sara had died. After that it had all been a blur of tears and angry words and feeling like something inside her chest had been broken.

And then he’d left for Corto Maltese. And she’d moved into her new office and the chair that she swore still held a trace of his cologne even if Isabel Rochev was technically the last QC CEO to use it.

After she’d recovered the data Ray wanted she’d spent the rest of the day tracking their flight, and making sure they made it back through customs alright. All four of them. She was glad Thea had returned, Oliver needed a win, badly.

She expected him to let her know when he got in but her phone remained silent and instead of sad she was suddenly angry. So she told Ray she needed a few days off. Barry was awake and a new hero seemed to be popping up in Central City which she found incredibly coincidental. A visit to get some answers in person seemed to be the most obvious choice.

But there was one last thing she needed to do.

The foundry was quiet when she arrived and as she listened to her heels echo off the metal stairs she wondered if she’d even find him there and if maybe that wouldn’t be for the best. However, when she made it to the bottom she saw him methodically restocking his arrows, as if he hadn’t flown ten hours to make it home.

“Oh hey, you’re back. Thanks for letting me know. Appreciate that.” she said with more snark than she had intended.

His shoulders sagged just an inch as she moved past him, eyes set on her bank of monitors. She just intended on setting up some alerts so she could monitor things from Central City and then she’d be gone.

“You knew we were back,” he replied without turning, and she resolutely kept her back to him as she began to type.

“Did I? How? Oh that’s right, because I hacked into Homeland Security and saw that you were processed through US Customs four hours ago.”

“I’m sorry...it’s been…”

She could hear how tired he was, knew he’d probably not slept a second on the flight back but she was angry and she wasn’t going to let him off easy this time. So like ripping off a bandaid she decided to get straight to what she needed to tell him.

“I’m going to Central City for a few days.” she said suddenly, knowing she’d taken him by surprise, “I know he’s awake. I know he’s this...Streak. But I need for him to tell me himself.” No need to clarify who ‘he’ was.

His head whipped around at that, unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh. But I guess you already knew that, huh?” she couldn’t help the hurt that seeped into her voice.

“Felicity--”

“Don’t. It wasn’t your secret to tell. I know.”

“There was never a good time to tell you!” he countered, finally setting the last arrow he held down on the nearest table to cross the distance between them, “He called me seconds after you walked away at the hospital and then Sara died. So tell me when was a good time to tell you about Barry.”

“I don’t know, Oliver but people do seem to be enjoying telling me things lately without me even getting a say so. You seem to have it down to a science. Ray’s practically an expert. Laurel’s treating me like her personal assistant which is sort of ironic since I have one of those of my own now. Along with your old office. Isn’t that just the kicker. So yeah, excuse me if I think you could have maybe found a few minutes to mention that Barry had woken up and could break the sound barrier now.”

She watched as he struggled to understand everything she’d just dumped on him and part of her wanted to do nothing more than to turn back to her monitors and leave him to flounder. But the way he’d visibly flinched when she’d alluded to what he’d said to her in that hallway tore at her heart. Because as much as it had hurt her, she knew he hurt just as much, and watching him deliberately keep himself from having the life she knew he wanted was unbearable.

“You have an assistant?”

The dry, humorless laugh that escaped her throat took them both by surprise. Because of course that’s what he would choose to comment on.

“His name is Jerry. And he doesn’t have an aversion to getting coffee.”

There was a trace of a smile, gone almost before it was there, but it let a bit of the knot under her breastbone loosen just a little.

“You deserve it.” he said quickly, “You deserve every good thing.”

With that she was on her feet and tugging on her coat because if she didn’t busy herself somehow she’d start crying and she’d done enough of that recently. Oliver in martyr mode when it came to her was not something she was able to handle just then.

He didn’t say another word as she gathered her things, but she felt his eyes on her.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” she said in a choked voice as she brushed by him, and when his hand caught the inside of her elbow she gasped loud enough to fill the space, the spark of electricity even through two layers of fabric sending a jolt down her spine.

They both froze, the air between them stilling because this was the first time they’d touched since their lips had parted and it was suddenly impossible to breathe.

“Don’t, Oliver. Not right now.” she managed to say between clenched teeth, needing space and needing it fast. If not she didn’t know what could happen.

He released her slowly and she felt the drag of each finger until they’d all fallen away, and only then did she force her weak legs to move.

She’d made it all the way to the first landing before she paused and turned around, knowing that he knew each footfall brought her closer but not knowing why. When she reached his side she felt in her coat pocket until she found the slim card she’d been looking for and laid it down next to him.

It was a non descript key card, no markings, and she waited patiently while he picked it up and turned it around before holding it aloft with two fingers and a questioning look.

“It’ll access the executive levels. In case you ever need it.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his eyes but the one she recognized instantly was relief.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” she repeated, holding his gaze for another second before she forced herself to leave.

“Thank you,” he called out once she’d hit the stairs again and she gripped the rail tight but didn’t look back.

“Your name’s still on the building. Also...things tend to happen in that office, seemed like you should have it.”

And with that she raised her chin and began to climb.

**  
  
**


	10. 3x06-post ep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, that ep wasn't the greatest, but the muse still lifted her head and came up with this. Enjoy!

The echo of the door slamming rang throughout the foundry and Oliver slumped back to the floor in defeat. He shut his eyes tight, fingers coming up to press into his temples as he found himself unconsciously falling into the breathing pattern he’d been taught all those years ago.

In and out.

In and out.

“Open your eyes, Oliver.”

The voice was soft but unexpected and in an instant his eyes sprang open, hands still hovering over his face as he looked across the flickering light from the still burning candle to see Felicity in the spot where Roy had been.

She sat with her legs curled to the side, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt as she waited expectantly for him to speak.

“He didn’t do it.”

“I know,” she replied, “I mean...I wanted that to be the truth but…”

“The evidence said otherwise,” he finished for her, hands falling to rest easily along his bent legs.

“He remembers about the cop though, doesn’t he. Like you thought, he was mixing up his memories with what happened to Sara.”

Oliver nodded, “He remembers.”

Her head ducked and she took a deep breath before she continued, “You know he asked me that night...the night of the siege. He asked me if he’d done anything while on the mirakuru and...I lied to him. I told him no even though I knew he’d killed that police officer.”

“It wasn’t the wrong choice,” he assured her but she just shrugged.

“I don’t know...I wonder...but I knew you needed him to fight and...it was a selfish decision.”

“It was a practical one.”

“Still...he had a right to know. And I don’t like lying. It makes me feel all squirmy inside,” she gave a small shuddering shake, face contorting in an endearing squint that made the edges of his lips curl up unbidden.

“You did the right thing.”

“Speaking of right things...what would you have done?”

She was looking at him again, flames dancing in the reflection of her glasses and he felt pinned by her gaze.

“I told him I wasn’t going to abandon him and that was before I knew for certain he didn’t kill Sara.”

She just stared for a long moment before her head dipped in a single nod, “What about what Digg said?”

Oliver let out a sharp breath before rubbing one hand across his face, “Digg isn’t always right,” he said carefully, “And if...if I’m going to do this my way it means no one falls through the cracks.”

He expected an immediate response but she sat so still he wondered for a minute if she’d even heard him. Then in a blink she was on her feet, hands brushing off her skirt and he could only stare up at her in confusion.

“Does that include you? Who’s going to make sure you don’t fall through the cracks too, Oliver?”

His lungs stilled as he forgot to breathe, recognizing the hidden depths to her words and their importance.

The only sound in the room was the hum of her computers and the slow, soft click of her heels as she began to walk by him, but instead of continuing she paused only inches from his side and he resolutely stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the red candle.

A tingle of electricity shot down his spine when he felt the barest of touches as her hand stroked once over his head and then she was gone, moving back into the shadows.

He let his mind go blank. Concentrating on the flame and his breath. Not daring to shut his eyes, because he knew exactly what he’d lost, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to find it again.


	11. 3x07-Sara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I couldn't give Oliver a hug (or a punch) so I gave him a baby to hold. Enjoy.

He’d been running on autopilot since he’d walked out of the lair with Roy. When they’d bypassed the bar and headed for the exit the kid had chucked his thumb over his shoulder, confused and maybe a little disappointed.

“This isn’t the part where we get raging drunk?” Roy had asked, but Oliver had just shook his head no and continued on.

The drive to Digg’s was a blur, as was the climb to the fifth floor, but something small eased inside his chest when the door opened and they were greeted with a smile.

By the time they’d eaten he’d caught more than one significant look from his partner but he deflected them, not ready to voice what he’d witnessed because that would make it all too real and right then he couldn’t quite handle reality.

His eyes slid shut and then immediately opened, because all he could see was her and Palmer and the way the blue of her dress had matched her eyes, and the way she’d rested her hand along his arm and it hurt too fucking much to even breathe.

He hadn’t noticed when Roy had gotten up to help Digg with the dishes, too lost in his own conflicting thoughts to be present.

And then there was a nudge to his arm and he looked up suddenly, half started to see Lyla at his side, Sara cradled in one arm as she tried to keep her phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder.

“Take her,” she mouthed, and before Oliver could protest ten pounds of soundly sleeping baby girl was deposited in his arms.

Lyla was walking away, talking briskly to ARGUS on the other end of the line, and he was left dumbstruck and open mouthed.

He’d tensed as soon as he had her, but she didn’t wake, she didn’t cry, and gradually, one by one he let his muscles relax, let his vertebrae sink back into the chair and began to breathe again.

Slowly he let go with one hand, confident enough he didn’t need both arms to hold her, and reached out to softly stroke her small fist. She shifted in his hold, head moving back and forth, nose wrinkling, letting out quiet little noises as he froze, certain he’d damaged her somehow. And then she came to rest, face turned towards him, tiny fingers wrapping themselves around the finger he’d extended.

He tried to control his exhale, lips pursing as he fought not to let it all go at once and his stopped heart resumed.

Sara’s grip was tight, stronger than he would have expected and as he stared down at her he remembered stepping into that hospital room and watching Felicity coo over the baby and the swift, sharp ache of want that had came out of nowhere, surprising him in it’s fierceness.

That hadn’t gone away. Despite his best efforts, despite every argument he could make telling him why he couldn’t be with her, despite the knowledge that he’d die if he was ever responsible for hurting her, despite it all he still loved her.

“How did this happen?” Digg dropped into the chair in front of him, leaning easily against the table as he smiled between his daughter and Oliver, “You’ve used every sneaky ninja skill in your quiver to avoid holding her since she’s been born.”

“That’s not…” he started and then cut himself off because Digg was right, he hadn’t held Sara before.

He received one knowing eyebrow in return which Oliver dismissed with a scowl.

“Her mother didn’t give me much of a choice,” he finally answered, a pang shooting through him when John turned to stare at Lyla, pacing in the bedroom still on the phone, the adoring look on his face saying everything.  

“Sounds about right,” he said with a laugh and then immediately sobered, “You gonna tell me why you and Roy showed up on my doorstep like a couple of strays?”

“It’s nothing. Just thought the kid could use a good meal and some company.”

“Mmmhmm,” Digg said carefully, “That so?”

Oliver didn’t answer, just looked back down to see he’d begun to gently rub his thumb over Sara’s little fingers, she let out another small sigh, drawing her legs up within the snap fronted sleeper she was in and then stretching back out again.

“So you didn’t take my advice then?”

His thumb stilled as his vision flashed with the image he never wanted to see again, but also knew would be burned into his memory, his penance to live with.

“She’s made her choice.”

“Really? She told you that tonight?” Digg countered and Oliver’s eyes flashed up, unable to hide the pain and rejection and loss he felt.

“She didn’t have to tell me. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Digg didn’t say a word, just cursed under his breath and wiped a hand down his face.

There was silence except for the muted noise from the game Roy was watching and Lyla’s occasional exclamations.

“Want me to take her?”

Oliver shook his head slowly, “No. She’s fine.”

With a sigh Digg pushed himself off the table to stand, pausing when he did, “One day the two of you are going to realize you both want the same thing. I just hope I’m around to see it.”

He clapped a hand on Oliver’s shoulder as he passed, going to join Roy on the couch as Oliver sat in the low light of the empty dining room.

Sara squeezed his finger and he glanced down to see her staring at him, warm brown eyes wide and liquid as she took him in, somehow seeming to be studying his very soul.

“I hope I’m around to see it too,” he whispered to her quietly, and as she blinked up at him he thought maybe, somehow, one day her father would be proven right.

**  
  
  
  
**


	12. 3x07-Sara-Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a companion piece to the previous Season 3 drabble #11-3x07 Sara.   
> I didn't set out to write this as a companion, but the muse had other plans. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

“You heading out again, Ms. Smoak?”

The friendly voice of the security guard called out to her as she left the elevator and headed for the exit, brain still fuzzy from the kiss she’d exchanged with Ray before he’d disappeared without another word leaving her more confused than ever and beginning to wonder if maybe the common denominator in her terrible luck with men lately wasn’t her.  

“Yes, and this time I plan on staying away for at least six hours.” she replied with a forced smile.

“Big day today...never thought I’d be wearing a badge that didn’t have the word ‘Queen’ on it though, but...times have to change I suppose.” he gestured down to the brand new badge that said ‘Palmer Technologies’.

She paused mid-step, guilt flashing through her for some reason she couldn’t quite understand, “Uh, yes, I suppose they do. We can’t live in the past,” the words felt like sawdust in her mouth and all she could hear was Oliver as he once again told her how he couldn’t be with her.

“True, true. Still...sad about the Queens, no one deserves all that. You saw Mr. Queen, right? I saw him on his way out, but he didn’t look too happy, maybe trying to get a look at the place on more time, you know.”

Her stomach dropped and a cold flush rushed over her skin, “Mr--Oliver was here? When?”

“About twenty minutes ago, I can pull up the camera feed if you want,” he offered, already moving towards his bank of monitors.

“No!” she exclaimed, too loud and too fast and he gave her a strange look in return, “Sorry, no, but thank you. I know exactly when he left.”

She didn’t need the security feed to tell her when Oliver arrived and why he left so quickly. All she cared about was finding out why he’d come in the first place.

Numb feet propelled her forward, the grip she had on her clutch almost painful as she resumed her exit.

“You okay Ms. Smoak, you look awful pale if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I’m…” the word ‘fine’ became lodged in her throat, “It’s just been a long night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The drive to the lair was unnoticed and she didn’t even wince when her hip ran into the door in her haste to enter the lair. The pounding of her pulse, and the way she couldn’t seem to take a deep breath told her that something important had happened. Her heels clattered noisily on the stairs as she ran down them as quick as she could, but no one was there.

The clicking of her shoes slowed as she approached her computers, “Oliver!” she called out, in case he was hiding in the shadows somewhere, but all she heard in return was her own echo.

One of the equipment tables had been cleared of its supplies, bottles, and tubes strewn about the floor and she crouched automatically to pick one up, looking up to see the fern right in front of her, the one she’d given to Oliver when things were good and hopeful between them.

As she stood she looked around, but there was no other damage, no other signs of a fight or break in and as she sat the bottle back in it’s proper spot she spied two distinct hand prints on the stainless steel.

A strangled half sob tore from her throat as she ran for her computers, knowing she had to find Oliver. Digg’s words resonated within her, how much this was affecting Oliver and how dangerous that was. And even though she’d been putting up a brave front and standing her ground the last thing she ever wanted was to be responsible for him being hurt.

She pinged the GPS on his phone, not knowing if she’d find him at Thea’s or on his way out of Starling, but she hadn’t expected to find him at Digg’s.

A relieved exhale left her dizzy as she slumped into her chair knowing he was safe. But she still needed to know why he’d come to the office.

Not caring how late it was she hurried back to her car, her sole focus on getting to Oliver. She didn’t know what she would say. She didn’t know if she’d be angry. She didn’t know if he would even talk to her. She just knew she needed to see him.

Her stomach churned when she knocked on the door, fingers twisting with each other in front of her as she waited.

Digg opened the door in one swift pull, his large frame blocking the entire doorway as she stared up at him, “Is he still here?”

He just let out a long suffering sigh and stepped to the side, revealing Oliver who was slowly walking towards her while holding baby Sara.

The twisting in her gut intensified as she stared at them and once their eyes locked she couldn’t look away.

She saw him try and hand Sara over to Digg but he held up his hands and backed up, “Nope, keep her. You can’t yell if you’re holding a baby,” he said with half a smile and made his way back to the couch where Roy was still sitting, looking on with eager interest.

Oliver’s eyes slid shut in frustration, his jaw clenching and she knew he didn’t want to talk to her just then. But when he looked back, his face was neutral and he remained silent as he stepped out to join her in the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him.

She couldn’t help reaching out a hand to trace over the soft hair on the back of Sara’s head. She looked so tiny laying against Oliver’s chest, her small hands clutching his shirt as she slept peacefully, unable of the turmoil that surrounded her.

“How’d you end up holding her?” she asked before she could think, her hand falling back when she saw how tense he was.

“Lyla had to take a phone call,” he answered, voice clipped and short and she knew he’d seen them.

“Why did you come to the office?”

A storm of emotions crossed his face, flickering from one to another until they landed on hurt before switching to anger.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does!” she replied emphatically, cringing when Sara jerked at the noise, but when Oliver’s hand came up to soothe across her back she slept on.

“Yes it does,” she tried again, this time quieter, “I heard what you said on the comms, okay. I know where you stand. I know where we stand, or at least I thought I did. So I need to know why you came to the office.”

He looked up at the ceiling before turning his head away from her, but when he looked back she saw the pain, “I just want you to be happy. And...it looked like you were.”

Hot, angry tears pricked her vision and she wanted to hit him and wrap him in a hug at the same time and she didn’t know what to do with that, other than she knew she couldn’t do either.

“God, Oliver...you can’t...you can’t keep doing this to me!” she hissed, “You can’t say you can’t be with me and then not be okay with it. Do you know how I would feel if something happened to you because you were too much in your own head! You told me being distracted was why we couldn’t be together in the first place and yet here we are, not together, but you’re still distracted.”

His mouth opened to reply, eyes glinting in the low light of the hallway, but instead of speaking he just shook his head and shut his mouth so hard his teeth cracked.

“Yes, Oliver, Ray kissed me! And I don’t know how to feel about that! Because...dammit he’s not who I want, but you’re being too nobly stubborn to realize that this isn’t working and I told you I wouldn’t wait around for you to die. But if you’re not going to live with me you’re going to have to let me go or this is going to kill both of us.”

He looked stricken...destroyed, and she saw her hand raise to give him comfort and only just drew it back in time.

“I can’t give you what you need right now. I thought…” he was cut off by Sara’s muted fussing as she began to wake, rooting her open mouth against Oliver’s chest.

“You deserve to be happy, too,” and this time she did step forward, laying her hand lightly along the arm that held the baby.

“Felicity…” he more mouthed than spoke and a tiny spark of hope fluttered in her chest.

“ _You_ make me happy. _You’re_ who I want. We’ve always been better together.”

His head dropped at that, a sharp exhale jostling Sara who whimpered at the disturbance and both their hands came up at the same time to lay across her back.

The breath caught in her throat at the contact but neither of them pulled away.

“If--” he began and she shushed him, fingers drawing a soothing pattern over Sara’s back and the back of his hand in a steady rhythm.

“Together,” she reminded him, bolstered by the fact that he hadn’t pulled away.

“I love you,” he breathed out, and she shook from the intensity in his voice.

“I know. I have never doubted that,” carefully she shifted closer, free hand coming up to rest along his waist, and when he didn’t protest she gently laid her head on the opposite side of his chest, staring at the baby.

She trailed a finger across her plump cheek, smiling slightly when she turned in her half awake state and searched for what she thought might mean food.

Tentatively Oliver’s other arm encircled her, thumb stroking over her hip as she pressed herself closer, wondering if she dared believe the hell they’d been living through was almost over.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, and a tingle of electricity shot down her spine when she felt his lips brush her skin.

“Don’t be sorry, just promise to stop pushing me away,” she countered, tilting her head back and up so she could see him.

“I’ll try,” he replied, but she could see the tension around his eyes had already eased.

“No try, Oliver,” she reminded him and he nodded.

“It’s hard.”

“I know. I know you’ve lost more than anyone should have to endure. But you did, you survived. And there are still good things in your life,” she looked down to see Sara, wide awake now quietly listening, “Like this little munchkin.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t, unless you keep pushing me away.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she lifted on her toes, but just as her lips moved against his jaw Sara let out a wail causing both of them to freeze before Felicity stepped back already trying to shush the baby.

“Take her,” Oliver said almost desperately, and if she hadn’t just watched him go through emotional torture she would have enjoyed the experience of witnessing him trying to calm an upset Sara.

Instead she took pity on him, their hands overlapping as he transferred the baby from his arms to hers.

The door whipped open to reveal Lyla on the other side, “She’s due for a feeding, sorry, John shouldn’t have left her with you.” she said by way of apology as they reentered the apartment.

“It’s fine,” Felicity assured her, “And I’m sorry for dropping by so late.”

She was so busy trying to gently bounce Sara in an attempt to get her to stop crying that she missed the looks Digg and Roy were shooting her or that Oliver was at her heels the entire time, hand low on her back as she followed Lyla into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about it. With the hours we all keep, time is relative.”

She didn’t seem at all phased by the now screaming infant as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle. “Give her your finger to suck on, it’s usually enough to keep her satisfied until the bottle warmer has done its job.”

Willing to try anything Felicity teased the open, quivering lips with the tip of her pinky, surprised when Sara immediately latched on and the cries quieted.

“Wow! That’s...that’s impressive,” she exclaimed at the strength of the suction.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Lyla said with a wave towards her chest and Felicity cringed in sympathy while Oliver seemed to choke on his own spit and had to turn away to cough.

Less than a minute later Lyla was offering the bottle, “You want to feed her? I had wine tonight so she’s not getting it straight from the source.”

“Uh, sure,” she replied, trying to figure out how to let go with one hand to take the bottle when Oliver took it for her.

He guided her into the living room where for the first time since she walked in she saw Digg staring at them with an approving look. He tipped the neck of his beer bottle in their direction and followed it with a nod.

As she settled into a chair Oliver perched on the arm, handing her the bottle when she was ready and she made the switch between finger and bottle so quick Sara didn’t seem to notice.

With a contented sigh she shut her eyes and began to drink, one of her hands coming up to rest over Felicity’s.

Roy tossed a pillow to Oliver who shoved it behind her back and carefully she let herself relax.

Lyla approached from the other side to drape a cloth over her shoulder, tucking it down near Sara’s face. “Don’t want you to get anything on that dress, it’s gorgeous.”

Felicity just shrugged and lifted her eyes to look at Oliver who was staring at her and Sara with such want it took her breath away. “It’s okay, it’s just a dress.”

**  
  
  
  
  
**


	13. 3x07-The Necklace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another 3x07 drabble. This is a 'what if' Oliver got to QC before Palmer. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

“Looks good on you.”

Her head shot up, one hand immediately going to her throat, inadvertently feeling the insanely expensive necklace that lay there as she turned wide, surprised eyes on Oliver.

He was the last person she expected to see that night. His words over the comms had cut. Somehow every single time she thought she was starting to heal he said something to tear the scab away and leave her bleeding again.

Now he was standing almost sheepishly in her office doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tried and failed to look at anything but her.

“Uh, it’s borrowed...not mine. Or the dress. I mean my salary is a lot bigger than it used to be but--” she said as she rose to her feet, until he cut her off.

“I meant the office,” he said quietly and her mouth shut with a pop.

“Oh.”

Slowly he made his way into the room and she didn’t miss the way his eyes pinched together in pain for a second when he spotted the ‘Palmer Technologies’ logo behind her desk.

“You deserve it. I...maybe if I had put you in here instead of out there last year my name would still be on the side of the building.”

He’d gone to the window instead of her desk and before she knew what she was doing she’d headed for his side, making sure to stop a few feet away because she’d left the lair that night before he’d returned from capturing Cupid. She hadn’t been sure she could have handled seeing him after what he said. But now he’d literally showed up on her doorstep and she didn’t have a choice.

She heard the regret in his voice, she’d thought she’d heard it earlier too, but it wasn’t enough for him to change his mind.

A flare of anger welled in her chest, because she was tired of him yanking her back and forth. She knew he loved her. She knew she loved him. And yet there they stood, not saying everything that should be said.

“Why are you here?” she asked brittlely, arms coming up to cross over her middle.

“I’m not sure,” he answered immediately, one hand raising to scrub across his forehead in an act of worry and frustration she knew all too well.

“I heard you tonight. Just like I heard you every other time you said it. I don’t need you to keep saying it, Oliver. I get it.”

“I don’t want to have to say it!” he exploded, finally spinning to face her, hiding nothing.

“Then why are you? Why do you keep doing this to me? To us?” she cried, hating how desperate she sounded.

“You know why! I don’t want you with Palmer! I don’t want you here! But I don’t get to make that call. And I can’t be what you need,” his hands raised and for a second she thought he was going to touch her, but instead he pushed the heels of his palms hard over his eyes and then turned to look back over the city, “But god, Felicity I want to be. So much.”

Her heart was thudding so loud in her ears she could barely hear anything else. Tears pricked her eyes because as much as it hurt she still wanted it too.

“You know why I love this office? Because it reminds me of you. And despite the number of horrific things that these glass walls have seen thats not what I remember! I remember teasing over coffee, and the way I’d look up and catch you staring at me. I remember lunches with Digg in the conference room and how many times you’d lock yourself out of your computer.”  quiet tears slipped down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to try and brush them away, “I remember us, Oliver. And everyday I walk in and you’re not here it stings. But I told you I couldn’t wait for you to die, and I won’t.”

His breath was ragged, his distorted reflection making his pained face look even more stricken, “I don’t want to die,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t hear it and all the air left her lungs, as she gripped the edge of the desk for support. And when he turned she’d never seen him more broken, “But I don’t know how to live.” his admission tore at her, leaving her mute.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I just want you to be happy.”

“You’re hurting yourself too,” she said hoarsely.

“I know.”

It was how quick and definitive those two words were that made her heart twist.

“I’m sorry. I came here…” he began and then paused, looking around at everything before settling back on her, “You deserve everything...and you’re getting it.”

Neither of them had to say the words he left unspoken, that he wasn’t the one giving it to her.

With her throat thick with tears she swallowed hard, wishing she could tell him that none of it mattered because all she’d ever wanted was him.

All she could do was shake her head sadly as her head dropped to stare at her feet, but the lightest brush of his fingers along her collarbone had her gasping and afraid to look up.

She could see the toes of his brown boots, only inches away from her sky high stilettos as the charge in the air between them grew. He was barely touching her but it consumed her. All she could feel was the heat from his fingertips, and the ache it caused in her soul.

A half strangled noise emerged from his throat, her head whipping up in response, but he wasn’t staring at her, his eyes were fixated on the necklace he was now lightly holding, the backs of his knuckles the barest brush against her skin.

“This used to belong to my mother. My father gave it to her for their twentieth anniversary.”

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, hand coming up to cover his as the other reached around and began fumbling madly for the clasp. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, all she could see was Oliver’s broken expression.

“Leave it,” he said roughly, other hand coming up to trap hers and they stood closer than they had been since he kissed her.

“I didn’t know, Oliver...I had no idea. Ray said he had to pay a security deposit and...I just assumed he got it from a jeweler or…”

“Most of her things were sold from the estate...I don’t know what happened to them after that.”

“I...if I’d known I would have never--”

“No. They’re where they should be,” he said throatily, and the meaning wasn’t lost on her as it left her lightheaded and tingly, and when he slid his hand around to cup her cheek and brush away her tears with the softest, most aching look on his face she didn’t know she was still standing.

His head fell forward as his eyes shut and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her. Then he sighed and squeezed her hand before he stepped back and a sudden chill went through her.

He didn’t say another word as he turned and headed out.

She stood there, frozen, in Moira Queen’s former office, wearing Moira Queen’s former jewels as the last Queen standing slowly made his way out of the building that no longer held his name.

 


	14. Flarrow 1x08

**A/N: Not really sure where this one came from. A little thing that popped into my head. Maybe more of a bridge into the themes for Arrow 3x08. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

Thanks to Central City's liberal use of CCTV Felicity had a front row seat while Oliver had battled Barry. She could also hear every grunt and groan as Barry had flown about, landing punch after punch in a blur that she couldn't see.

With her heart in her throat, she'd waited as Oliver finally got the upper hand and the van with Dr. Wells and Detective West had arrived, the lights working as predicted to reset Barry's brain.

She'd sat back with a sigh of relief, air rushing from her lungs all at once because she was certain she hadn't taken a full breath since it had all started and with her eyes shut she could almost block out the too bright lights of STAR labs and pretend they were back in the foundry when Digg's hand dropped to her shoulder and squeezed once.

Cisco chattered excitedly in the background, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "Did you see that? I'm so making a copy so I can watch it on repeat. I mean Barry's just this blur and then the Arrow's bow is almost going as fast!" he made overly exaggerated whooshing noises and she knew without looking his arms were flailing in front of him, "And he actually got an arrow TO THE KNEE! Do you even know what that means!"

"Oliver almost died," Felicity snapped, as her hands came down to grasp the arms of the chair, the space around her going silent, her words ringing in the air. With a low exhale she spun around and leveled Cisco with a look. "Oliver almost died. Again. Barry threw him off of a roof, and if he wasn't  _Oliver_ he would have ended up just like-"

It got stuck in her throat and she had to look down and study the floor as images of Sara's blood stained hair flooded her memory.

"Felicity…" Digg said carefully and she slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. She swallowed hard once.

"They need to know."

Digg just nodded and crossed his arms over his chest as he slid a few feet closer, the divide in the room obvious.

"This isn't a joke...what we do...it's life and death every day."

"Felicity, we know that," Caitlin replied calmly but with a touch of defensiveness.

"No, you think you do, but you don't. You've only been doing this for a few months and with Barry...it's not the same. Not only does he have powers he also heals quickly. Barry could break every bone in his body and still survive. But if Oliver had fallen off that roof…" she trailed off as a cold shiver made its way down her spine.

"I spend every night doing everything I can to make sure I don't end up burying another friend. We sacrifice in order to keep our city safe. It's not always pretty. It's a lot of shadows, and long nights, and…" she was on her feet, and as she approached the desk that Caitlin and Cisco stood behind she saw them tense, "It's not just Oliver out there. I mean, we've all been hurt, we've all been shot. But we keep going because what we're doing is important."

Cisco's mouth hung open in shock, but it was Caitlin who finally found her voice, "You've been shot?" she asked incredulously.

"Holy crap! That's hardcore." but where there had previously been joy she now only heard surprise and a touch of awe in Cisco's tone.

"It was nothing, and that's not the point," Felicity said quickly, waving one hand in front of her because that's not what she wanted them to focus on.

"How did you get shot?" Cisco asked, obviously not ready to let it go.

She sent him a glare over the edge of her glasses and had just opened her mouth to reply when Digg beat her to it.

"She took a bullet for Canary. Saved her life." he said proudly, stepping up behind her and she felt her eyes prick hotly at the swell of emotion that rose in her chest.

"Whoa,"

"Look, Felicity's right," Digg continued, "Things are different when you're sitting under these bright lights away from the action. And I'm not saying that's not important and that I wouldn't mind if a certain someone didn't do that more often," he sent her a knowing look and she gave him a soft smile in response, "But when we break we stay broken. Which is why we have to be smarter, more prepared, and ready for whatever comes our way because we can't out run it."

"And as fast as Barry is he can't rely on it exclusively. That's how Oliver was able to stop him tonight. Experience. Patience. Planning. Even someone with Barry's abilities can benefit from that."

"Mr. Diggle makes a fine point. One I've been trying to drive home for several weeks now."

Harrison Wells spoke from behind them and Felicity whirled to see the foursome arrive, but she only had eyes for Oliver. She scanned him quickly, head to toe, not missing the swelling at his jaw or the way he stood with more weight on his right leg.

Then she was moving, striding forward with quick purposeful steps to grab Oliver by the cuff of his jacket, just avoiding the flechettes, as she tugged him towards where she knew Caitlin kept the medical supplies.

She heard him blow out a breath through his nose, but when her eyes flashed up to meet his he acquiesced with a dip of his chin and didn't say a word as she laid a hand on his shoulder after only the smallest of hesitations and directed him to at least sit on the side of the bed.

For a few moments there was silence between them and in the rest of the lab and she didn't dare look around because she could feel their eyes on her.

After she'd pulled out a cold pack to lay against his jaw she tilted her head to the side and motioned down, "Let me see your ribs."

"I'm fine," he returned as expected and she lowered her voice an octave when she replied.

"Oliver, he dragged you down the street like roadkill and then used you as a pummeling dummy. Let me see your ribs."

The battle of wills didn't last long and with one disgruntled noise he unzipped the leather jacket and shrugged out of it. Her hands came out to help as he began to lift the black t-shirt over his head and they both froze, the breath catching in her throat as her mouth went dry.

Everything was still so tentative with them. It had only been a week earlier when she'd heard him once again proclaim that he couldn't be with her, and after Ray had kissed her before leaving her standing confused in her office. She didn't quite know where she stood with anyone but she knew his touch still sent bolts of electricity racing through her and she could still drown in the blue of his eyes if she let herself get lost in them.

A loud cough from behind them made her startle and then Oliver was moving again, the shirt whipped over his head with only the smallest of winces and she let out a sigh when she saw the bruises already beginning to form.

"See. You look like you went a few rounds with a cheese grater," she admonished to cover up her worry, but she knew he could still hear it in her voice, "You might need stitches and you'll have trouble raising your bow all the way for a few days-" her fingers hovered over the worst of it but she couldn't bring herself to touch him.

Her throat grew thick as she gripped the edge of the table, keeping her head away from him because all she could see was Oliver lying prone on the asphalt, not moving, blood seeping through his hood.

"Stitches? I can do that," Caitlin said from only a few feet away, already pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Yeah, um...that's good. You know I don't like pointy things, Oliver, and Caitlin is a doctor. A real one. It might be nice to be patched up by someone who knows what they're doing for a change."

Her skin felt hot and she could feel her chest getting tighter as she tried to get away before he could see her face. But before she could his hand shot out to wrap around her wrist making her still as Caitlin discreetly turned her back and walked to a set of cabinets.

"Hey," he said softly and she immediately felt herself respond, the tense line of her shoulders dropping as she raised her eyes to his, "I didn't fall off the roof. I'm fine."

He'd heard it all she realized, but instead of feeling embarrassed she was glad.

Her other hand came up to lay over his, the feel of the leather glove cool beneath her fingers, and she let her thumb slip down to glide over the edge until she hit warm skin. His eyes darkened slightly and she knew he heard the hitch in her breath.

"I know," she returned, so quietly she didn't know if he heard her, "I know."

She walked away, not looking back as she made her way to the small desk she'd come to think of as hers as Caitlin began to inundate Oliver with questions.

Barry passed by, giving her a knowing smile as he went to join Oliver, attempting to provide some sort of barrier between the overzealous doctor and the brooding hero.

But when Digg was once again standing at her back she let herself sink into the chair and slid two fingers under her glasses to rub tiredly at her eyes.

"Didn't want to fix him up yourself?"

"No, I figured I'd let the professional handle it."

Digg let out a long sigh she'd come to recognize, "He came back, Felicity, that's all we can ask for."

"This time, John. He came back this time."


	15. 3x08-The Jacket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is what happens when things like 'what happened to Oliver's old jacket?' pop into my head. Enjoy the feels! And please drop me a line to let me know what you think. Happy reading!

Three weeks after Oliver had left was how long she waited before she pulled it out.

She’d tucked it away in a box, unmarked and plain in the top of her closet, hidden under a mountain of shoe boxes, not only to keep it safe, but to lessen the temptation.

But they’d had a bad night. They hadn’t gotten the guy, there’d been a major blow up in the lair between Laurel and Roy, and instead of staying and diffusing the situation by playing counselor like she had been day in and day out she grabbed her things and bolted.

The ache behind her ribs grew, twisting her heart until she couldn’t take more than shallow breaths as she rushed through her door and locked it behind her as fast as she could.

Tripping over her feet she raced for her bedroom, not even noticing as slingbacks and peeptoes rained down around her in her haste to pull out the only box she needed.

With shaking hands she moved back towards the bed to sink onto it before her numb legs gave out. Felicity tucked her feet underneath her and slowly raised the lid.

As soon as she saw the familiar green her eyes blurred with tears. The new suit Cisco had made still hung in the foundry, either awaiting it’s owner’s return or as a shrine to his memory, no one quite knew just then. She’d avoided looking at it, but every now and then her eyes would wander and she’d catch herself staring.

She’d fully supported the idea of upgrading the suit, especially the addition of the kevlar. Anything that would keep him safer was more than fine, but when Cisco had suggested a new hood she’d put her foot down. There was no possible way he could ever wear any hood than the one he’d returned with from the island.

While Barry and Oliver had been delivering Harkness to Lian Yu, Cisco had shown her the final design and then handed her the box that was currently in her lap. He hadn’t known what to do with the old jacket and she’d told him she’d take care of it.

Without knowing why she’d taken it immediately and put it in her car, not considering what she’d do or say if Oliver ever asked about it. But he never had. He’d never really even had a chance.

The next thing she’d known her world had been turned upside down again and she was alone.

It was a splash of wetness on her arm that jolted her out of her memories. Carefully she pulled the material from the box, having forgotten how heavy it had been. Her fingers traced over the green leather, noting the spots where it had been worn by the quiver strap or the furrows where the flechettes sat, parts lighter and more worn than others.

She found the places that had been patched after bullets had torn through or blades had sliced, shudders going through her with each one at the images that flashed through her mind.

Before she could stop herself she raised the jacket to her face and pressed her nose into the collar, sobs wracking her frame as she smelled him for the first time in so long.

It was the scent of leather, and sweat, and the soap she kept stocked in the bathroom that mixed and mingled to create something that was only Oliver.

She cried until she was light headed and sick, her face hot and sticky with tears that she didn’t bother to wipe away.

She missed him. It was that simple. She just missed him.

The not knowing if he was alive or dead was destroying her.

She wanted to believe. She had to believe. But on days like the one she’d just had it made it too difficult. More than anything she wanted to hear his footfalls on the steps and turn in her chair to see him there, where he belonged.

But he hadn’t come.

Moving quickly so she couldn’t talk herself out of it she slipped her arms into the sleeves and drew the two sides close around her, letting out a shuddering breath when for a second all she could smell, and feel was Oliver surrounding her once again.

She laid back, curling on her side to where she could stare out the window, the curtains drawn just so where she could see most of the night sky.

And like she’d done every night since he’d left she stared out into the black and hoped that somehow, someway, he was staring at it too.

**  
  
  
  
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	16. 3x08-The Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a small 'fill in' scene I thought needed to be explored. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!

The lair was stunned silent for a few long seconds after Barry had raced away carrying Lyla until Felicity’s shaky voice broke through.

“John...you need to go,”

It was the jolt he needed, his head snapping up from where he’d been staring at the spot on the table where the love of his life had just been laying.

“Go,” Oliver said quietly, “Take the bike.”

Digg just nodded once before pounding up the stairs. No one else moved until the reverberation of the door slamming shut again was finished ringing throughout the foundry.

It was Caitlin who made her way around and began shutting down the medical equipment, but Oliver only had eyes for Felicity who was still gripping the edge of the med table like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Slowly he approached until he was at her side and could see the fine tremors running through her.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Even though he’d kept his voice low she still jumped, hands flying up to adjust her glasses when she froze, staring at the dried blood that stained her skin.

“I just keep seeing Sara.”

A great sucking inhale rocked him back and he heard Roy make a noise of distress behind him but he didn’t turn.

“Lyla’s at the hospital. She’s alive,” he reminded her, watching as she blinked rapidly while nodding her head but not really hearing him.

“I see you too. And Roy. And Digg. You’ve all been on this table, and--”

“You’ve been there too,” he said sharply, unable to stop himself and he saw Caitlin and Cisco exchange a look on the other side. Because the memory of thinking she was dead in that restaurant was too close and too real.

Her chin fell to her chest at that, “I know.”

The thumb of her right hand was beginning to scrub a spot on her palm and he could see how close to the edge she was.

“You need to get cleaned up.”

“I’ll take care of this, and then go to the hospital if you’d like. See how she’s doing,” Caitlin offered kindly.

“Thank you,” Oliver replied, but never looked away.

Hesitantly he reached out until his gloved fingers came to rest on the inside of her elbow and she jerked like she’d been struck by electricity.

When she half turned towards him his chest seized. He wasn’t expecting her small fingers to wrap around his wrist, digging tight into the leather as she finally lifted her head and looked at him.

He could see the fear. How scared she was that they were going to lose someone else and more than anything he wanted to hold her, protect her, promise her it would never happen again. But he couldn’t. He still hadn’t shaken off the terror he’d felt at her call telling them Harkness had infiltrated the foundry.

**  
  
**

“We’re okay,” he more mouthed than spoke because his throat was thick and he didn’t trust his voice.

“Yeah,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I got your bag with your change of clothes,” Roy interjected causing Felicity to pull away and attempt to give him a half of a smile. But it fell short and Oliver didn’t know if the flare of frustration and anger he felt was directed at Roy for interrupting or at himself for being the reason the foundry had been compromised.

With slow, heavy steps she took the bag and began to make her way towards the back, but halfway there she stopped and turned, locking her eyes on his and for a moment no one else existed.

Caitlin came around, arms wrapping around her middle as Felicity blinked before continuing into the shadows, and the doctor waited until she was out of sight to speak.

“She’s strong, Oliver. She’ll be okay.”

And when he looked up and stared at her, he realized he didn’t know if she was talking about Lyla or Felicity.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**


	17. 3x08-Caitlin's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bit of a 'what if' for 3x08. Told from Caitlin's pov. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

The panic in Felicity’s voice was the first thing Caitlin noticed, quickly followed by how Lyla went immediately on alert. And then all hell broke loose.

She wasn’t ashamed to say that she ran. Although she’d only been working with Barry for a few short months they’d had their share of dangerous situations and she was secure enough in her abilities to know trying to take down a trained agent wielding deadly boomerangs was not in her wheelhouse.

Tucked out of sight she could only hear as Felicity and Lyla shouted to each other; short, decisive words, nothing superfluous as first the dings and pings of the boomerangs ricocheting could be heard and then the unmistakable sound of gunfire.  

Caitlin flinched with each shot and dared to risk a peek when Felicity screamed for Lyla to get down.

The desperate ‘No!’ that followed made her gut clench just before a large explosion rocked the floor beneath her. Then it was only a matter of seconds before Felicity was yelling her name.

Caitlin slipped out from her hiding spot to see Lyla writhing on the floor in pain, boomerang sticking out of her upper right chest.

“Keep pressure on the wound!” she directed Felicity as her medical training kicked in. This was her wheelhouse and she would be damned if she let the woman who tried to save her die.

Felicity’s voice was high and shaky as she pleaded with Lyla to stay with her, to keep breathing as Caitlin scoured the meager medical supplies as quick as she could, making a distracted mental note to gift their friends in Starling with a top of the line medical set up as soon as possible.

“She’s not breathing!” Felicity cried as Caitlin crashed to her knees beside them, quickly injecting Lyla with a dose of epinephrine.

“Defibrillator? Oxygen? What do you have?”

“All of that. Over there,” Felicity pointed behind them near the long utilitarian table Caitlin was just then realizing functioned as their surgery. The blonde’s face pulled into a pained grimace as she gestured but there was no time to focus on it. She needed to get Lyla on the table as soon as possible.

“Help me move her.”

Quickly Caitlin taped gauze into place around the protruding metal and they some how managed to get Lyla the few feet from where she lay to the table.

Ignoring her own racing heart Caitlin moved as fast as she could, pulling the crash cart up as Felicity hooked tubing to the oxygen, handing the mask over as she adjusted the valve.

“She’s breathing on her own, but this should help for a bit,” Caitlin assured her as she began to peel the gauze away to see the point of entry.

“Can you take it out?” Felicity queried, her worry evident as she stroked loose hair from Lyla’s face.

“I think so. It hasn’t hit any major arteries, but it’s deep. I can’t operate here.”

“The guys will be back soon. They were only a couple miles away when--” Felicity choked off as she remembered what had happened. “She can’t...she’s a new mom...the baby…”

“She should be fine. I’ll remove the boomerang and put a pressure bandage on. Her numbers are already stabilizing,” she pointed towards the monitor, but when Felicity turned to look at them herself Caitlin gasped.

“Oh my god, Felicity!” she cried, body already starting forward and then rocking back because she couldn’t let go of Lyla. “You were hit! In the back, you…” the right side of her blouse was stained, a long ragged tear through the fabric gaping open to show the still bleeding wound.

But Felicity didn’t look surprised, all she did was shift towards the table some to lean on it heavily, “I know. It’s just a graze. Lyla needs your help.”

Caitlin locked eyes on the woman she’d grown to view as a friend and saw the dead set determination on her face.

“Felicity--” she breathed out, shaking her head.

“Caitlin, it can wait.” she said sternly, “What do you need?”

With a hard swallow she nodded once, not happy that she couldn’t help both of them at the same time, but understanding the logic to Felicity’s selfless triage.

As she rattled off supplies Felicity began to gather them, moving slower than she would have if she wasn’t injured, but not stopping.

They worked well together, Felicity seeming to anticipate her moves more often than not, handing her things before she asked. “You guys do this a lot?”

“More than I care for,” Felicity answered tightly, “Digg’s the one with medical training but...you pick up things. Though I’m not one for sewing up my own wounds like Oliver is so…”

Caitlin grimaced at the thought and then set her attention on Lyla. The nerve wracking part came when she pulled out the slim curved bit of metal, not knowing if it would be accompanied by an uncontrollable spurting of blood. When the wound just flowed normally they both let out sighs of relief.

As Caitlin finished up she kept shooting worried glances at Felicity who had become more and more pale, a fine sheen of sweat breaking across her skin.

“You’re going into shock,” she declared.

“Yup,” Felicity agreed, biting her lip as she dipped her head in reply.

“You need to sit at least.”

“I’ll be fine. Just worry about Lyla.”

With a glance to the monitors Caitlin reached over and removed the oxygen mask, before looking down at her patient, pleased to see she seemed to be holding her own for the moment.

She’d just opened her mouth, this time deciding she wasn’t going to take no for an answer when they heard the door open and the sound of heavy footfalls.

Oliver hit the bottom of the steps first, taking in everything with a single look, eyes widening in shock when he saw where they stood and why.

But it was Mr. Diggle, pushing past the rest and rushing to Lyla’s side that propelled Caitlin into action. As he gently cupped her cheek she explained what she’d done, but that Lyla still needed surgery and it couldn’t be done in the foundry.

All it took was one desperate request and Barry was scooping the injured woman as carefully as he could before heading for the hospital Oliver had directed him too. Mr. Diggle was right behind them and when the immediate drama was over Caitlin turned her full attention to Felicity.

“Sit. Now. No more excuses,” she ordered, using the voice she often turned on Barry when he was being difficult.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver asked immediately, moving to approach Felicity’s side, but she deliberately kept herself turned from him as if she didn’t want him to see what had happened.

“It’s just a scratch, Oliver.” she said dismissively, but he must not have been fooled by her weak voice and the way she clutched the table to keep herself from falling.

In a blink he was shoving his bow behind him for Roy to take unasked as he reached a hand forward to clasp her upper arm, turning her slightly just as Caitlin pushed a rolling chair next to her.

The sharp hiss of air dragging through his teeth when he saw her injury coincided with the moment where her body finally gave out. Her knees sagged suddenly, head falling forward as Oliver stepped in to catch her.

“Sit her down,” Caitlin directed, one hand on Felicity’s uninjured side, guiding her into place as Oliver dropped to one knee in front of her, both hands planted securely at her waist as her forehead rested against the top of his shoulder.

“I told you you were going into shock,”

“Are you always like this when you’re right?” Felicity’s voice was slightly slurred as she spoke and Caitlin saw Oliver’s eyes widen in fear.

“You should hear her when Barry’s getting patched up,” Cisco interjected from behind her, but he was also already digging through drawers and tugging out the items he knew she’d need.

“Barry never listens, that’s why.” Caitlin replied.

“I believe that,” Roy added, just before Oliver exploded.

“Enough!” he shouted, loud enough that Caitlin froze while slipping on new gloves and Cisco looked like he’d been struck. Felicity’s head lifted far enough so she could look at Oliver and all it took was her saying his name once for the fire in his eyes to subside, “What the hell happened?”

“Harkness remotely activated the phone...backtraced it here...and boom, not so secret Arrow cave,” Felicity was trying to sound nonchalant but the way Oliver tensed and the way her words sounded forced ruined her attempt.

“Lyla got hit with one of the boomerangs, but Felicity saved us. I didn’t realize until we were already working on Lyla that Felicity had been hit too,” Caitlin resumed her preparation and began to cut away the now ruined blouse.

An overly loud throat clearing made her lift her head to see Roy standing behind Oliver with his arms crossed sending a hard glare at Cisco who looked confused for a second until he looked down at Felicity’s now bare back and gulped before hurriedly making his way around to stand next to Roy.

Oliver’s eyes were locked on Felicity’s face and for a second Caitlin almost felt like she should move away. Because she knew that look, she’d lived that look. She’d had that with Ronnie and she didn’t understand why the two people in front of her were denying themselves that. She’d give anything to have it back again.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered, head lowering as Felicity shakily raised a hand to pat his chest.

“It’s not your fault. I missed it too,” she assured him.

“You got hurt.”

The unspoken ‘again’ was obvious to everyone in the room and all Felicity did was let out a long sigh.

She hissed as Caitlin wiped the cut, “Sorry, it’s going to sting. You’ll need some stitches.”

 

“...starting quite the collection,” Felicity said with a  humorless laugh, but Oliver reeled back as if she’d hit him, the stricken look on his face telling anyone that was looking that the mere idea of Felicity being hurt was something he could not handle.

“Sorry,” she whispered, head falling forward again. Her hand fisted the leather strap to his quiver, but the clench in Oliver’s jaw didn’t lessen.

As Caitlin prepared the syringe to numb the area she noticed a small puckered scar higher on Felicity’s shoulder blade. It was healed over, only the faintest of pink to distinguish it from the skin around it, but she recognized a bullet wound when she saw one and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach as her mind raced, wondering exactly what life was like in Starling City.

Felicity took a shaky breath and Oliver shifted imperceptibly closer, “You know I don’t like pointy things.”

“I know,” he acknowledged solemnly.

After that they were both silent while she waited for the numbing agent to work and put in seven neat stitches. If she noticed the way Oliver’s eyes fell shut as Felicity breathed into his neck, or how his thumb drew slow circles over her hand she didn’t let on. She focused on her task and pointedly ignored the way Cisco couldn’t seem to stop staring.

“Do you want something for the pain?” Caitlin asked, “The lidocaine will wear off soon and with the location of the injury--”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Felicity,” Oliver said quietly as she pulled back.

“I need to find Harkness and I can’t do that if I’m loopy on pain medication.”

He looked as if he were about to protest but remained silent, although he was obviously not pleased.

Barry blew back in just then, causing Oliver to leap to his feet and turn, blocking both Felicity and Caitlin with his body until he realized who it was.

“Whoa, just me, big guy,” Barry said quickly, “Dropped Lyla off at emergency, she’s in good hands.”

“I’ll just finish up here and then go over to check on her, see if Mr. Diggle needs anything.” Caitlin offered.

When Oliver stepped back Barry got his first look at Felicity and immediately began asking questions. Luckily Cisco stepped in to answer them because Oliver looked like he was about to blow.

“Do you have something else to wear? I sort of had to cut your blouse,” she said apologetically.

“Yeah, I’ve got a bag and...that’s okay, I think it was a bit of a lost cause before you took scissors to it.”

Oliver ran a rough hand over his head and Caitlin didn’t miss the worried look Felicity held on him before she clutched the remains of her top to her chest with one hand and carefully rose to her feet.

His arm flashed out to grasp her elbow and they both went still, eyes locked on each other, and this time Caitlin did turn away, the moment too loaded and too personal for anyone else to witness.

There were hushed words she couldn’t quite make out and when she did turn it was to see Felicity slowly making her way towards the back, taking the bag Roy held out for her as she passed him.

Oliver stood like a marble statue and once she’d stripped off her blood stained gloves and thrown them away she cautiously approached, waiting until he turned to let her know he saw her before she spoke.

**  
  
**

She gave him a small smile before she began, “Oliver...I know I don’t really know you that well, but...I lost the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Felicity...she has the same look in her eyes that I see in the mirror, except you’re still here. I just...if I had just one more day with Ronnie, I’d take it in an instant,” her voice choked with tears and she had to pause and take a deep breath before she could continue, “Whatever is keeping you apart...it’s not worth it. Not with the lives you lead.”

Before he could reply she slipped away, discretely wiping her eyes as she headed back to the desk and grabbed her things.

As she headed up the stairs she turned back just in time to see Felicity emerge from the back, new black sweater in place, looking as if nothing was wrong. But Oliver tracked her every move and the want and need splashed across his face was enough to make her heart clench in sympathy.

Barry caught her eye as she continued up the stairs, giving her a tight lipped but knowing nod. He saw it too.

Hopefully Starling’s hero would figure out that he wasn’t alone no matter how much he thought he had to be.

**  
  
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	18. 3x09-spec fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but wanted to wait until just before the ep aired to post. A feels filled spec fic for 3x09. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!

It was closer to dawn than to midnight when she finally stumbled through her door, eyes swollen from crying, and with a hollow ache in her heart with the knowledge that she may have just seen Oliver for the last time.

The ultimatum Ra’s al Ghul had given him had been cruel and unfair and when their forty-eight hours were up with them no closer to identifying Sara’s killer Oliver had done what he thought he had to do to save the city.

They’d all tried to make him see reason, plead their own cases, to no avail and when Digg had left with a shake of his head he’d locked his eyes on her and she’d known she was the last chance they had of saving him.

There had been tears on both their parts, kisses she hadn’t intended, and soft desperate words from him and her but he still left and with a final cup of her cheek and kiss she knew meant goodbye he broke their hearts again and left her standing alone in the middle of the foundry.

She didn’t remember the drive home, or putting her things away, or changing her clothes, intending on falling into bad. Instead she wandered back into her living room and froze when she spotted something on her side table that hadn’t been there before.

Trembling, she approached almost cautiously, grateful that the couch was so close when she saw what it was because her knees suddenly didn’t want to hold her.

A small menorah with the first candle placed sat before a box wrapped in silver paper. There was no card or note but she knew who they were from.

The paper crinkled noisily in the quiet apartment but she barely noticed over the thudding in her ears. Inside, underneath a layer of tissue paper she found a chain with a pendant linking the two sides. As she pulled it out a fingertip traced the curves and dips until with a gasp she held it up and realized it wasn’t some random design, it was a word, in Hebrew.

A choking, gasping laugh burst past her lips as her eyes clouded with tears. Oliver had made it himself. She could see the spots where he’d welded the metal, the small imperfections where it had needed to be bent or straightened, and at the ends of the first and last character there were tiny arrowheads, the ends dulled to where they wouldn’t hurt her.

Clutching the necklace in her palm she looked back at the box and saw a small slip of paper that had been folded in half. Oliver’s distinctive script stood out starkly on the white background and she found herself touching the ‘O’ at the end before she’d even read the note.

‘Hanukkah isn’t until next week, but I never want you to be in the dark. You’re my hope. Don’t give up on me.

-O’

Silent tears tracked down her face as she calmly rose to grab a book of matches and her phone.

By the flickering of one small candle she ruefully shook her head. Of course Oliver would have assumed she knew Hebrew. But her connection to Judaism was really her last remaining connection to her father and celebrating the major holidays was as far as she’d ever got.

It hadn’t taken long for her to find the translation, although it had taken three attempts to affix the clasp behind her neck.

With a blanket wrapped around her she tucked herself into the corner of her couch and turned to stare at the candle, watching as the flame danced in the air. Her fingers ran over and over the characters than now rested in the hollow of her neck, small, and delicate and she silently vowed to do what she could to keep the city safe while he was gone. Because she had to believe Oliver would return.

Her lips turned up in an attempt at a smile as she lay her head back, hand wrapping around the pendant.

The word meant ‘light’.

**  
  
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	19. 3x09-How Do you Do it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Buckle up, kiddos, I’m coming out of the box swinging. Figured I’d destroy your souls and then slowly put them back together again. Hope thats okay. This one began relatively innocuously with me just wondering if the Flash crew were going to be told about Oliver. 
> 
> And then this happened. Please let me know what you think.

The phone rang three times before it was picked up.

“Felicity, hi! I’m so glad you called. I’ve been wondering if you found any matches with those markers…” Caitlin’s voice trailed off as Felicity gave one, inelegant sniff, not even bothering to wipe her face.

The shadows stretched long in her darkened apartment, hiding the used tissues, forgotten wine bottles, and the glass that sat stained and empty on the table in front of her.

With her head spinning, ears buzzing from too much alcohol and not enough food she didn’t quite notice at first that her friend had stopped talking. She wasn’t even sure how or why she’d called other than it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Felicity…” Caitlin tried again, an edge of worry creeping into her voice, “Is everything okay?”

“How do you do it?” she blurted out, hollow and forlorn, “How do you keep getting up every day? Get dressed? Brush your teeth? How does--” her words choked off as her throat grew tight and she took a great gasp of air in before she continued, “How does the world just keep...going when he’s not here any more?”

“What’s happened?”

“He’s gone...he’s gone and he’s not coming back this time. He always comes back. It’s his thing and he was good at it. But...he’s not and...I don’t know how to do this.” Felicity shifted in her seat, legs curling under her as tight as they could, as if by taking up less space there was less of her to hurt, “I need you to tell me how to do it. Because...I don’t know.”

“Felicity...please...you’re worrying me, who’s gone?” there was muffled talking on the other end of the line but she didn’t pay it any attention, “Barry’s here. Do you need him to come get you?”

“Oliver’s dead.”

She said it quick and harsh, the same way it had been told to her. The same way those two words still echoed in her head on repeat and had been for the past three days.

The next voice on the line was Barry’s and she knew she should feel bad at his pained “What!?” but she couldn’t. She was numb to everything just then but the thudding, ache behind her ribs that used to be her heart.

“Oliver’s dead. Yup. Stabbed through the chest and thrown off a mountain so...he’s not coming back from that this time. Can I talk to Caitlin though, because I need her to tell me how she did it. I need to know how I’m supposed to live like this. None of it makes any sense.”

The sobs she’d been trying so hard to contain burst past her lips and for a few long moments she didn’t hear a thing as the phone sank to her lap while she wept.

Her name being shouted caught her attention and when she brought it back to her ear Caitlin was on the line. “Felicity, where are you?”

“My apartment,” she answered, words slurring.

“Is Mr. Diggle there with you?”

“Nope. Kicked him out yesterday. Used my loud voice and everything.”

“Okay, just...we’ll be there in a second,”

True to her word the line hadn’t even disconnected before the door handle fell to the floor with a clatter and Caitlin and Barry were stepping inside.

She didn’t look up until Barry’s red gloved fingers slipped the phone from her hands, causing her to gasp as her eyes flew to his. The sight of his masked face sent a slash of pain straight through her, “No suits,” she managed to whisper, “Please...no suits...I can’t,”

He stilled and then vanished as Caitlin sank cautiously onto the couch next to her, one hand laying gently on her back. When he returned he did so quietly, wearing jeans and a sweater and she heard him moving behind her, the soft glow of a lamp being turned on illuminating the room she’d barely looked at in days.

Then Barry was kneeling before her again, his hands balled into fists and she was glad he didn’t try to touch her. She thought she might fly apart if he did.

“Felicity...what happened?”

“He’s gone,” she said thickly, “Just...gone.”

Barry’s head dropped as he rubbed his eyes and she could hear Caitlin’s shallow breaths to her right, but she had nothing left in her to give.

In a flat, monotone voice she told them everything. How the DNA pointed to Oliver. How Ra’s al Ghul had threatened the city. How Oliver was doing it all to protect his sister. How she’d waited for two days in the foundry until a man they’d never met before showed up with Oliver’s things and the news of what had happened on that mountain.

Barry fell back on his heels, unable to comprehend that the man he considered a friend and a mentor was gone, but it was Caitlin who reached over and took her hand in a strong grip and began to speak.

“You wanted to know how you do it? You don’t. Half your soul is missing so the person you used to be...she’s not there any more. You have to find a new way, with this new you. One who is always going to be looking over your shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of who you used to be. You keep moving. You keep fighting because it’s what you have to do. You don’t have a choice,” her voice cracked and Felicity felt the steady stream of tears flowing down her face as a soft hand stroked over her hair, “Some days are almost normal, and others are so bad you don’t know how you survived as long as you did without him. You can’t even breathe so how are you supposed to do anything else?”

Felicity nodded as she spoke because she felt it in her bones. The loss, the ache, the specter of his memory closing around her like a shroud and it was too heavy for her to carry.

A warm hand on her knee made her lift her head to see Barry staring at her with red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said sadly.

“Me too,” she mouthed, “I never told him-”

“He knew,” Barry interjected almost fiercely, “He knew. You have to believe that.”

She bit her lip and dipped her chin, the grief filling her veins once again until she thought she might explode.

“I’ll help...any way I can. You know I can be here in an instant. The only reason I’m doing what I’m doing is because Oliver showed me how. The least I can do is help protect his city in his memory.”

“Of course we’ll help, anything you need Felicity you just have to ask.”

“I just want him back,” she replied brokenly, “Can you do that?”

As Caitlin gathered her into a hug she heard Barry blow out a long breath before climbing to his feet. “I’ll go see Roy and Digg...I’m...I wish I could fix this, Felicity.”

Felicity turned into her friend’s embrace, letting her eyes fall shut as the heartache and wine washed over her.

“There are some things worse than death,” Caitlin whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear her. Something in the way she said it made Felicity’s brow furrow, but Caitlin cleared her throat and pushed on.

“Being left behind, and having to find a way to keep on living. If I ever figure it out I’ll let you know.”

**  
  
  
  
**


	20. 3x09-Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: More feels. You've been warned. I do have a proper one-shot fic in the works that's about their reunion. So hopefully that will help. Until then we've still got feels to work through. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think!

**  
  
  
  
**

“How long, do you think?” she asked again while nibbling the skin along her right thumb nail.

“Felicity…” Digg began and she didn’t turn to look at him.

“He just said it was a neutral site, not Nanda Parbat but...that could be anywhere. I found his phone and he didn’t wear the boots with the trackers in them. I was only sort of joking when I suggested a subdermal tracking device, now I’m wishing I’d just done it when he was unconscious one time. I mean, it happens frequently enough that-”

Digg’s hand came down on her shoulder making her shiver, but it cut off her ramble which was his intention.

“He went with the League. He could be anywhere. You’re not going to be able to track him by normal means.” he blew out a long breath and settled into the chair next to her, “We’re just going to have to wait. But if I know Oliver the first thing he’ll do when it’s over is find a way to contact you.”

She felt her cheeks flush, her mouth opening to protest and say he’d be contacting _them_ but she caught herself because they both knew it wouldn’t have been the full truth.

It had already been several hours. Digg and Roy had waited for a while before returning but Oliver had been long gone by then. They found her frozen in the spot where he’d left her, mind blank because if she let herself think all she could do was cycle through every horrible scenario imaginable.

Her hand kept raising to her forehead, just centimeters from brushing the spot where he’d kissed her, but she always stopped herself in time. She could still feel him. Could still feel the warmth of his lips, the lingering wetness, and she was terrified that if she touched the spot his presence would vanish.

But more than anything it was his final words to her that at first were a lifeline. However, they were quickly becoming something worse. With each minute that went by she could feel what they really were. A goodbye. Forever. He’d said those eight letters with such ease, such clarity, because she knew that somehow he believed he wasn’t returning.

After numerous attempts to get her to rest, all of which she ignored, she woke up in the early hours of the morning to find herself laying on the bed she’d bought for him. Digg sat tipped back in her chair, arms crossed over his chest while Roy methodically cleaned his bow. It had been almost eight hours and day break would be soon.

With the blanket that still smelled like Oliver wrapped around her shoulders she pushed to her feet and headed for the stairs, the need to see the sunrise somehow the only thing of importance to her in that moment. Roy and Digg both went to follow but she held up one hand to keep them at bay.

The roof of Verdant was easy to access and the light, pinky hues of impending dawn greeted her as she made her way to the edge, facing east, wondering if he’d already seen the sun that day or if it was dark where he was.

If she stared straight ahead there was nothing in her line of sight but trees and ocean and she could imagine she was anywhere else, and far away from the city that sprawled behind her.

As the sun began to make itself known tiny pinpricks started to crawl up her spine until every hair on her body stood on end and her stomach plummeted. An icy cold chilled her, as slowly her limbs went numb, one by one and she felt herself sway. Something inside her fractured, the edges rubbing raw as a pain so swift and fierce and deep invaded. The warmth of the yellow rays did nothing to stop her shivering and she knew in her soul it was because he was gone.

Silent tears tracked down her cheeks and as quiet as he’d been she still heard Digg approach from behind.

“He’s not coming back,” she gasped, lungs being forced to work as she somehow managed to stay upright.

“What?”

She shook her head, and wiped ineffectually at her face, “He’s gone, John, he’s not coming back this time.”

“It hasn’t been that long. You have to give him more time.”

With that she turned and she saw his face fall when he laid eyes on her, “He’s not coming back. I can feel it.”

He didn’t say a word, just closed the distance between them and hauled her to his chest as she broke.

It took another twelve hours before his personal effects were delivered along with the official word that he had died in combat at the hands of Ra’s al Ghul.

By that point she was numb, flowing from one workstation to another in the lair unaware of what she was doing. Feeling the worried, red rimmed eyes of Roy and Digg as they followed her, neither knowing what to say.

She’d begun to pace a short track from her chair to where Oliver would work on his arrows, hands twisting in front of her as the pain and anxiety bubbled up within in her chest.

“I never told him, Digg. It was the last thing he said to me before he left and...I couldn’t say it back.”

“He knew, Felicity...everyone knew.”

“But I didn’t say it!” she exploded, “He finally looked me in the eye and said it as truth and I let him walk out of here without saying a word! How do I go on knowing that? How do I…” she collapsed in a heap, knees only barely having the chance to brush the floor before Digg was wrapped around her.

“He knew you loved him. He knew it.”

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t know how to do this,” her breaths were too shallow, lungs growing tighter as she sobbed against him, not hearing his commands for her to breathe.

And as the world around her grew dimmer and dimmer the last thing she saw was his suit, sitting untouched in its case.

**  
  
**


	21. 3x09-Telling Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Much like how I needed to know how Team Flash found out about Oliver, I also needed to know how Lance found out as well. Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

She paced for a good ten minutes in the bullpen of the precinct before he finally sighed and took pity on her, not having a clue why she’d come to see him without calling first but tired of waiting for her to make her move.

A tingle at the back of his neck told him this was serious because normally they only communicated through text or call; the less that connected the two of them the better. But he’d developed a soft spot for Felicity Smoak and he hoped that whatever had brought her to his department wasn’t as bad as his instincts were telling him it was.

“Ms. Smoak, you need something or you looking to get arrested for loitering?”

Her head jerked up at his voice and he got his first good look at her. Pale behind her make up with dark shadows that couldn’t be hidden. But it was her eyes that made him suck in a breath. They were dull, lifeless, with a pain so visceral he recognized it immediately. He’d seen that same look in his own eyes when he thought Sara had died.

She quickly looked away, knowing she’d given up too much, but the damage had been done and without a word he stepped to the side and lifted a hand towards his open office door, the invitation clear.

Like a ghost she slipped by him, barely moving the air and as she passed he took note of the muted colors she wore, the usually perfect nails that were now chipped, and a low, hastily done ponytail at the base of her neck instead of her typical sleek look.

He took his time shutting the door and drawing the blinds, having already noticed a few curious heads lifting. They knew she wasn’t one of his daughters, so her presence drew questions.

When he turned she stood in front of his desk, staring blankly at a spot on the wall, seeing something he couldn’t see. A gentle hand along her arm made her jump and skitter to the side like a spooked animal. He waited as she pressed the back of her shaking hand against her mouth as she tried to control her breathing while an icy fist clenched in his gut. There could only be two reasons why she’d be this upset to come see him.

“Is it Sara?” he blurted out, and she took a step back, paling even more as a stricken look froze her face. All the blood rushed to his head, his hand automatically reaching for the pills he kept on him at all times.

“No!” she said too loud and too quick, cold fingers flashing out to lay over his hand where it was searching in his breast pocket. But there was something in her eyes he still couldn’t place. “It’s not...it’s not Sara.”

As the pounding of his heart began to subside he realized he knew exactly why she’d come and he felt the pang, the loss of the man he’d once vilified and hunted but who he’d come to see as a savior and hero.

“He’s uh...he’s gone,” she said quietly, voice thick with tears and pain.

Lance let his eyes fall shut as he rubbed at his temples, “I don’t suppose there’s any chance he’s coming back this time?”

Her head snapped up, and their gazes locked. He’d known the real identity of the Arrow for over a year but he’d never acknowledged it because he understood why he’d kept himself separate. Why Oliver Queen couldn’t be both men. Why he’d needed that divide. “The kid was a survivor.”

“You knew,” she gasped, shock splashed over her face.

“I am a detective, or I was. But he didn’t want me to know and I figured that was for a reason.”

Her head dipped once in agreement, “He didn’t want you to be culpable if something went wrong.”

“Still not sure what my girls saw in the old him. But your guy? The one who came back...I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I know how much you loved him.”

Her lower lip trembled, eyes so full of tears he didn’t know how they didn’t spill over. And with a heavy sigh he took two steps forward and pulled her into his chest.

She cried quietly, shoulders shaking as he rubbed her back, trying to give what little comfort he could.  

He didn’t ask why or how knowing in the end it didn’t truly matter.

“He did some real good in this city. And if I know you, you and your boys aren’t going to stop, are you?”

Her head twisted twice on his shirt front and he dragged a slow hand over her hair, “Well, that’s something I guess.”

“Won’t be the same,” she mumbled against him and he had to blink rapidly against the hot sting of tears that surprised him.

“It never is, sweetheart, it never is.”

He couldn’t help pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as her grip grew tighter for a moment.

However, before he could say anything the door burst open, “Dad, here’s the file you requested, I can’t--”

He lifted his head to see Laurel staring at them, as a whole host of emotions ran unchecked. He saw surprise, confusion, jealousy, and then anger for a split second before it all fell away and settled on understanding.

“Oh, sorry, I--”

Felicity took a deep breath and then pushed back, fingers hastily wiping away her tears before she looked up at either of them.

“It’s fine, Laurel, I…”

“She came to tell me,” he interjected, as a growing sense of tension began to swell between the two women.

Felicity’s voice took on a hardened edge he’d never heard her use before, “He deserved to know.”

Laurel’s eyes flashed in challenge and she started forward two steps until she drew herself up short. He looked between the two, not knowing what was being unsaid.

Slowly Felicity turned back towards him, “Let me know if you need any help, Detective--Captain, sorry.”

Laurel ducked her head and turned away, but he could still see the stiff line of her shoulders and the way she kept cutting glances their way.

“If you need to take some time…”

“No,” she cut him off sharply, “We don’t have that luxury.”

“Ms.Smoak…” she’d already started to head out when she paused and turned, “I really am very sorry for your loss.”

Laurel sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and he knew his words might hurt his daughter. But she’d stopped being Oliver Queen’s girl a long time ago and the woman who blinked at him behind her glasses was hurting in a way few understood.

She mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ and slipped out of his office as silently as she’d come in. He followed her with his eyes as she made her way through the bustling bullpen, no one around her the wiser that the woman who kept their city safe was in their midst.

She’d continue to do what she’d always done, he knew that, but she’d never be the same. And he knew every time he heard her voice on the phone that spark would be missing. That extra little something that made her so special had been dimmed, and barring a miracle he didn’t expect it to return.

**  
  
**


	22. 3x09-The Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is the post 3x09 fic I've been trying to not write because I knew it would be harsh and brutal and I managed to hold off for weeks until the muse finally told me to shut up and sit down and write the damn thing.
> 
> Warning: This gets pretty dark
> 
> I'm really sorry for the feels.

Of course it had been raining the day she left work and headed for the former Queen mansion instead of the foundry. Digg and Roy were expecting her, but somehow on that day, at that hour she found herself taking the winding backroads that led to the massive stone house.

The gate was locked tight, no for sale sign because properties worth that much didn’t get listed the same way the typical single family home would. She drove right past the main entrance to take a side road that led to the back.

With her car tucked out of the way she made quick work of the electronic lock and slipped in, keys dropping heavily into the pocket of her coat as she pulled it tighter around her.

She’d seen this part of the property only once before, the day of Moira Queen’s funeral. Oliver had been missing then and she’d found herself looking out a side window to see two stones rising from the bright green grass. Digg had told her they were the headstones placed after the Gambit had gone down and everyone thought both Oliver and Robert had been lost. A cold thread worked its way down her spine and she shivered at the idea of it still standing when Oliver was most definitely alive even if he hadn’t been present.

But now as she slowly made her way across the overgrown lawn, that headstone represented so much more.

It had been six weeks since he’d kissed her on the forehead, told her he loved her, and left without looking back.

It had been five weeks and four days since Malcolm Merlyn had left her hyperventilating on the foundry floor for Digg to find after calmly telling her Oliver was dead, the sword used to kill him clutched so tightly in her hands Digg couldn’t get her to let go until he’d injected her with a sedative.

She’d been in denial since then. Even though every blood analysis she’d run had come back with the match as Oliver. Even though she could find no trace of him. Even though days and weeks passed without him returning. She couldn’t bring herself to accept it.

And now she found herself paused before an empty grave, with the wrong dates, so much like Sara’s that it made her heart catch.

Her eyes moved over Robert’s quickly to focus on the matching one next to it. The one with Oliver’s name on it. The letters swam, tears finally coming so swift and fierce she was unprepared.

Since she’d woken up on the bed in the foundry that day Merlyn had brought the news she hadn’t cried another tear. She sometimes thought Roy and Digg wished she would. She knew she worried them with how stoic she’d become and how little emotion she showed, but she’d known that it was the only way, because once she started she didn’t think she’d be able to stop.

Her knees hit the soft, spongy grass, water seeping into the side of her skirt as she sat on her left hip, leaning against the stone, finger running back and forth along the dash between the two dates.

The sobs wracked her as all the pain she’d ignored and denied seeped from her, too much to contain any longer.

She loved him. She loved him so much she hadn’t been able to tell him because admitting it would have made it too real and she couldn’t risk losing it. She’d been terrified at having it all.

As it turned out she still lost him.

She cried until she couldn’t breathe. Until she had to turn to the side and retch. Until her stomach hurt and she couldn’t fill her lungs. Until she felt so light headed she was no longer leaning against the cold marble in some disillusioned belief she could be closer to him but because she had to in order to stay upright.

It hurt. The spot behind her ribs where her heart used to reside. There was an ache now. Raw and sharp that rubbed the wrong way when she tried to take too deep a breath.

She knew how to function before. She knew how to grasp desperately to hope. But now that she’d let it go she didn’t know how to continue.

Time had ceased to be something she recognized, so later she’d wonder how long it was until Digg and Roy found her.

She remembered being lifted into Digg’s strong arms. She remembered trying to fight him off when he pulled her away from the grave.

She’d remember the scared look on Roy’s face at the screams that tore from her throat.

She remembered being held and soft words. She remembered the long, slow walk back and how she didn’t understand why there were three police units with swirling lights parked around her car.

She remembered Captain Lance telling someone to leave and that there wouldn’t be any trespassing charges. She remembered his gloved hand stroking over her hair once before telling Digg to take care of her.

She remembered staring, unblinking, curled into the passenger’s seat, facing Digg while he drove back to the foundry with a locked jaw.

She remembered not putting up a fight when he carried her out of the car and down the stairs of the foundry. She remembered not shutting her eyes when they passed by Oliver’s empty suit like she had been since he’d left.

Digg methodically changed her clothes while she sat on the edge of the bed like a damp, limp rag doll, but he didn’t try and talk to her and she was grateful.

She fell asleep on a pillow that she refused to wash because one side still smelled like Oliver and if she closed her eyes and wished very hard, the soft thwick of arrows releasing from a bow were from him, and not Roy practicing as if the whole of the city didn’t rest on his shoulders now.

And when she woke hours later from another nightmare she didn’t sit up. She just lay there and tried to remember how to exist.

 


	23. 3x13-Thea/Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A scene I needed to happen. Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think.

Felicity slipped away after Oliver announced his plans to leave. Again. And all at Malcolm Merlyn’s bidding. Her mouth was dry, stomach churning as she walked across the empty dance floor of Verdant.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

The voice came from the shadows and when she looked up she saw Thea moving behind the bar, “Mind if I join you?”

“Aren’t you still technically underage?” Felicity asked as she slid onto a stool.

Thea just shrugged, “Age is relative. And right now I feel...so old.”

Amber liquid was poured into a highball, Felicity’s fingers already wrapped around the glass though she waited until Thea had one of her own before she raised it in salute.

She tipped it back in one go, eyes watering at the burn but she just shut them tight and waited it out.

“So how long have you and my brother…”

That’s when Felicity choked, sputtering as she slammed the glass back to the bar top, hand pressed to her throat as she tried to catch her breath.

“Whoa, I meant the whole hacking for the bow and arrow wielding vigilante thing not-- Oh. It’s true.”

Thea was silent, calmly passing her a bottle of water, waiting her out.

“I’ve been working with him for two years,” Felicity finally replied, purposely not acknowledging anything else but Thea just narrowed her eyes.

“It’s funny, it all makes sense now, when I think back. All the lies, all the terrible excuses, all the times he disappeared,” she gave a short, disbelieving laugh, “Mom _shot_ him. I have a thousand questions.”

“He’s pretty terrible at lying,” Felicity agreed, refusing to let the memory of the night she’d found him in her car flood her memories. Oliver coding on the table was not something she could think about just then.

“So he wasn’t in jail in Bludhaven the past few weeks, was he?”

Felicity heard the words, the blood draining from her face as she swallowed hard. Apparently the universe didn’t think she deserved a day off from the near continuous horror she’d lived for almost a month.

Thea’s voice sounded brittle when she spoke,“Where was he? Did it have to do with Ra’s al Ghul?”

“He uh...he sort of died. Again,” Felicity whispered, “I mean, obviously he didn’t die. He’s here now. Alive. But...we thought...your fath--Malcolm he...we had every reason to think he was dead.”

Felicity’s eyes couldn’t seem to focus as she tried to keep her voice even though she knew she’d failed. She couldn’t tell her why Oliver had really gone. She couldn’t tell her that the blood Ra’s really wanted spilled was hers. And Felicity didn’t know if that made her just as guilty as Malcolm and Oliver by continuing to lie to her, but she didn’t think Thea could handle any more truth just then.

Slim fingers wrapped around her wrist and squeezed, “I’m sorry. I know how that feels.”

Felicity looked up quickly to see understanding and warmth, the younger girl’s words finally hitting home, “Oh, I...I didn’t mean to suggest that...I mean...what you went through. Five years. I can’t--”

The final two words cracked so badly she covered her mouth with her palm, breathing quickly growing ragged as her heart pounded violently behind her ribs.

“Felicity...what I went through was hell, yes. I thought I had lost my brother. But I can’t imagine if I had lost the man I loved.”

She froze, hand falling away only to have it grabbed as Thea leaned across the bar, “I obviously don’t know what’s actually going on with you two but if you try to sit here and tell me you don’t love him and he doesn’t love you you’d be just as terrible a liar as Ollie is.”

“He’s leaving again,” she blurted out, “He’s leaving again and I can’t stop him. He says it’s only a few days but...I’ve been to Lian Yu, I know what it’s like. There are landmines, and the tide sneaks in quick, so you have to be careful when you’re on the beach, there’s some shelter, I’m sure the old fuselage is still there but please, watch out for the landmines. Oliver knows where they are but, just in case,” now she was the one gripping Thea’s hands as she stared back with wide eyes.

It slammed into just then, how scared she was because he had only been back a week, she still hadn’t stopped having the nightmare of watching him being stabbed through the chest, blood pouring from his mouth. Every time she heard his footsteps on the stairs a little shock still went through her, a second of suspended disbelief that he was actually there. Actually alive.

“I’ll watch out,” Thea said carefully, “Thanks for the tip.”

“Speedy! Plane leaves in twenty--” Oliver’s voice called out and then stopped abruptly.

Felicity jerked her hands back, hastily wiping her palms over her thighs as she kept her head tilted down, trying to gain control over herself before he could see her.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you two were…”

“Felicity was just giving me the 411 on the island. Apparently it’s not a big tourist destination like you tried to make it out to be,” Thea replied with false brightness as she made her way around the bar.

“Ah, no, not exactly,” Oliver said quietly and Felicity could almost feel his gaze burning into her. Taking one more deep breath she blew it out slow and controlled and then spun slowly to face him.

The sight was so familiar it made her heart stutter. Brown leather jacket, pack slung over his shoulder. It was the metallic tang in her mouth warning her of the bile rising in her throat that made her stumble to her feet.

“Felicity!” he called, cutting her off two steps away from the stool.

“Oliver, don’t,” one hand flew up to keep him back because if he touched her just then she knew she’d break, “And don’t tell me you’ll be back. I’ve heard it before. I can’t hear it again.”

His eyes swirled with everything they couldn’t say right then, everything that had been said,  and heard, and everything that hadn’t been said as well. She was too close to the edge, too close to losing control over everything she’d worked so hard to push down because Oliver wasn’t willing to live the life she wanted to give him.

“Keep her safe,” she said with one quick look towards Thea who stood frozen, staring between the two of them, “And try not to die again.”

With that she turned and headed for the entrance to the basement, heels clicking so fast it sounded like she was running, and maybe she was because this time she wasn’t going to stand around and watch him walk away.


	24. 3x14-post ep-future fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 3x14 was soooooo good!!! I had to write a future fic where Oliver tells Felicity he saw her. And of course that had to happen on their honeymoon. Enjoy. And please let me know what you think!

The bed was huge, California King or whatever the European equivalent was, Oliver wasn’t sure. All he knew was that with his arm fully outstretched it still took him every inch of his wingspan to just hook his fingers around his wife’s waist and pull her back to him. She sighed, mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out but he thought it might have been ‘again?’. Although the intrigued lift at the end made him think she didn’t mind.

Oliver buried his nose in a riot of blonde curls, hugging her to his chest before a sharp rap on the door made him groan. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple and climbed from the bed, tugging on a pair of loose sleep pants as he hurried to intercept room service before they could knock again.

He scrawled his signature and took the cart from the server, making sure to sign a generous tip even though the man’s eyes didn’t seem to raise above the scars that littered his torso. With a shake of his head and an easy smile that he knew he wouldn’t have had a few years earlier he gave a half sarcastic salute and pulled the cart into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He had a newly minted bride to see to.

Felicity was still sprawled on the ridiculously high thread count sheets, mouth slightly parted, one lock of hair moving with every breath. He took his time opening the windows to the balcony, fresh morning air and sunshine rushing in. They were in some tiny, secluded town in Greece he couldn’t remember the name of, but the hotel was five stars and prided itself in privacy.

Day four of being married and he still didn’t know if he’d ever really understand what he had. But he knew he’d spend the rest of his life making sure he cherished every second of it.

He was pouring rich, dark coffee into tiny cups when he heard her shift on the bed, turning just in time to see her push hair out of her face as she sat up against the pillows, the rings on her left hand sending a kaleidoscope of colors across the entire room.

“You’re cute,” she said with a smile and he froze, French press in one hand, bowl of berries in the other.

A memory washed over him, one he hadn’t thought of in years and a grin spread wide across his face.

“You gonna share with the class? And I don’t just mean the coffee,” she asked, sheet dropping away as she crawled towards the end of the bed and he almost forgot what had captured his attention as she settled with her legs hanging off the mattress with a coy, seductive lift of her brow.

“That’s not the first time you’ve said that about me,” he replied as he handed her a cup, eyes dropping to take in her pert, pink nipples and the darkening bruise he’d sucked onto her collarbone two night earlier.

“Said what?” she asked, sipping the coffee with a sigh, eyes falling shut. She hadn’t stopped talking about how good the coffee was there since the first morning.

“That you think I’m cute,”

Her brows furrowed and he could almost see the wheels turning in her enormous brain as she tried to recall when she’d said that to him before.

“Granted you didn’t say it _to_ me,” he supplied as he joined her on the bed, dragging her smooth bare legs over his lap as she leaned back, still trying to remember.

“Well, I obviously think you’re cute. And a whole host of other things you have obviously heard me ramble about so I give up. What had you staring off into space with a dopey grin on your face?”

He ran a finger over the sensitive sole of her foot, chasing it as she jerked it away with a squeal, “Dopey grin, huh?”

“The dopiest,” she challenged, causing him to lean in and steal a kiss, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth, tasting the coffee she’d been drinking.

But when he pulled back he sobered, “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

To her credit, that wasn’t the first time she’d heard him say that line and there was no censure in her eyes as she looked back at him, calmly taking another sip of her drink as she waited for him to continue.

“You know I was in Hong Kong for a period, while I was gone?”

“Yeah, after your first time on the island, and before Russia, and before you went back to the island.” she supplied, somehow shrinking his five years down to a single sentence.

“Right, well...about three years after the Gambit went down, while I was in Hong Kong...I ended up back in Starling.”

Her eyes went wide, mouth dropping open in surprise and he only just managed to save the cup from her slack grip, reaching over to set it down on the tray as she sat up straighter.

“Waller brought me back, used me to gain access to files that Queen Consolidated had…”

“Oh my god, Oliver...did you...did you see your family? Your mom? Thea? And you had to go back?” her eyes were bright, compassion and love pouring out of her, directed at him.

He slid one palm up her leg, over her knee and thigh her hand intercepting his, sliding into his and holding tight. “Yeah, I saw them. I...I saw Tommy and Thea and...I was going to stay, I thought I could. I went home,” he said with a small shrug, amazed that even after all these years he could still feel how desperately he wanted for it to be over, how much he had wanted to be able to stay.

Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking across his skin and without her saying a word he knew she understood.

He clasped her hand in his, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles, “I didn’t just see them. I saw you too.”

If possible her eyes went wider.

“What?”

A smile spread across his face as he remembered seeing her in his mother’s office.

“You came in as I was using Mom’s computer to access what Waller needed. I was hiding in the conference room. But... I heard you...talking to my picture. You said I was cute and then you rambled on as you do before you left. You...I caught a glimpse of you as you were leaving and even though it was night and it was dark you were...you were this burst of light that I hadn’t seen in years. You made me smile. I don’t know if I had truly smiled since the boat went down.”

She was speechless, something that was rare and unheard of and that normally he’d be crowing about but the tears pooling in her eyes and the way she scooted closer to him, hands resting on his shoulders made him keep quiet.

“How?”

“I didn’t remember right away, not until I was back at QC and my mother took me around. I saw you in the crowd. Blonde ponytail and glasses and it all rushed back to me. I asked Walter about you and he said you were the best new hire IT had made in years,” he stroked his fingers across her cheek, pushing loose curls behind her ear, “It’s why I came to you with that laptop.”

“And you never said anything?” she asked, voice watery and a little shaky.

He shrugged, “I honestly forgot about it. That might have been why I sought you out at first but...walking into your office that day changed everything. I think my mind blanked out. All I saw was bright blue eyes, and a red pen, and you, Felicity Smoak-,” he grinned slow and long before leaning in even closer to finish, “-Queen”

The next thing he knew he was flat on his back with an armful of the best thing that had ever happened to him.

She peppered his face with kisses as his hands roamed her bare back, “I was annoyed with you that day you know? Your homecoming tour held up the elevators and one of the VPs had infected his computer with malware. Again.”

“I apologize,” he said as seriously as he could muster but she was rolling her eyes before he could even finish.

“You’re still a terrible liar, Oliver,” she admonished.

As he rolled her over his hand skimmed the length of her rib cage, thumb dipping in to tease her hip, eyes darkening as she gasped, “Only with you, Mrs. Queen, only with you.”

**  
  
  
**


	25. 3x20-The Plane

**A/N: So…all we know is there's a jet in 3x20 and SA's favorite scene is on a jet in 3x20. And his favorite olicity scene is on a jet in 3x20. Here's a drabble set on a jet in 3x20. No where near as cracky!plane!sex as I intended. But I sorta like it and hope you do too. Enjoy and let me know what you think!**

Felicity rubbed gritty, tired eyes pushing back from the bank of computers in front of her. Everyone else was off duty while they flew sixteen hours to the other side of the world in Amanda Waller's commandeered jet. But thanks to the high tech command center situated in the center of the plane Felicity could still work.

Rolling her shoulders she groaned as she rose and slid open the door that led to the narrow hallway, trying to remember if she needed to turn right or left to reach the small kitchen area. Coffee would be necessary.

As soon as they had hit cruising altitude she'd left the others and headed to her post. And she'd been there for the past six hours.

She turned left passing two small bathrooms before coming to another closed door.

Without thinking she slid it open and stepped through and it took two ragged breaths before she noticed she'd gone the wrong way.

But as she let her eyes soak in the sight of Oliver laying sprawled across a large bed, shoes hanging off the side, she thought maybe she'd gone the right way.

Her brain was ahead of her heart however, and had commanded her hand to reach for the handle behind her. However, her hurried, awkward fumbles caused her to knock into the paneled door, rattling it in it's track.

She spun with a muffled curse, only making it worse as her toe kicked the bottom, an even louder noise filling the space.

"Felicity?"

She cringed, hands curling as they fell away from the door and she turned to see him standing next to the bed, eyes a little wild but beginning to fade as he recognized she wasn't a threat.

"Sorry. I...coffee. I was just-I got turned around. Sorry."

Her top teeth bit into her bottom lip. Everything with Oliver still left her so off balance. Probably because as much as she'd tried to distance herself from him, she'd failed. She was tied to him. Irrevocably it seemed.

His brows drew together as he studied her, as if he was trying to decide if she was a mirage or something real.

A shake of his head and he was suddenly present. He glanced at his watch and then back at her. "Have you been working since we left Starling?"

"Yeah, I mean...I'm really the only one who can. And the set up is pretty amazing. We've really got to get our own satellite…"

"You need to take a break," he began but she cut him off with a wave.

"I'm good. Really. That's why I was looking for the coffee."

"Felicity, I need you…" he trailed off, and the air became trapped in her throat, as the most honest and sincere expression she'd ever seen crossed his face.

He stepped even closer until she could feel the heat of him and she was forced to tilt her chin up to look at him.

"I just need you."

Her heart stopped. She was certain it was no longer beating.

A soft hand landed on her waist and then there was no more distance between them. She was pressed to his chest, all warm skin and solid muscle and he just held her.

One breath left her seized lungs and then another. And then she sank into his hold as her arms came up to wrap around his back and she held him just as tightly as he held her.

A rumble of turbulence had him steading them, his hands coming up to grip her arms. There was a brush of lips across her temple that made her heart speed back up as the heat of his touch seemed to burn into her.

When he began to slide her jacket off her shoulders she stiffened, pulling back. Blue eyes locked on blue and the love she saw directed back at her threatened to be her undoing.

"It's okay," he whispered.

Felicity stepped over the cliff. Finally giving herself over to the inevitable.

As the grey material slipped past her fingers he let it fall to the floor before taking her hand in his and tugging her to follow him around to the side of the bed.

"You need to rest. And so do I."

His admission startled her and she froze, eyes flying to his. She thought they were going to have sex and she'd been very okay with that.

Blue eyes grew darker as he held her gaze, knowing she wouldn't even be able to blink. With one arm wrapped around her back he pulled her in so their hips were flush and there was no mistaking his arousal.

A sharp breath escaped her lips and he leaned in even closer, mouth nipping her jaw, slowly moving towards her ear.

"Make no mistake, I want you and I will have you. But our first time will not be on an A.R.G.U.S plane."

Her mind blitzed white and that was before his teeth found her earlobe.

"I love you."

That wasn't what she had planned on saying. And by the way he jerked back to look down at her in awe it wasn't what he had expected to hear.

Then his mouth was on hers and her gasp only let him slip his tongue inside to slide along hers.

With desire spiraling low in her belly, heart flipping she clung to him even tighter.

"You're making me rethink my decision," he growled and the sound went straight to her center.

"I wouldn't complain," she countered with a small shrug that had him shaking his head in mock exasperation.

But the light in his eyes was back. The spark that had been missing for far too long.

He turned her carefully, fingers trailing up her arms to find the closure at the back of her neck. She had to bite back a moan when he tugged the fabric of her tank style blouse from her pants, but dutifully raised her arms as he dragged it up and off her body.

His hands skimmed over her shoulders, sending tingles spreading across her skin and when he spanned her waist she couldn't stop the strangled noise that came from her throat.

Hot lips and a bite of teeth made her jerk against him as he nipped the tender skin between her neck and shoulder. "Soon," he breathed out and she sagged, making both of them groan as his erection was ground into her ass.

He pushed her away slightly, putting some much needed distance between them even if it was only a few inches. She felt his fingers trail along her bra strap, and wondered for a moment if he was going to attempt to take that off as well when she felt him focus on a specific spot.

Then the rasp of his beard scraped over her shoulder blade as he pressed small kisses to what she now knew was where she'd been shot.

There was something reverent in the moment, as if he'd been waiting over a year to do it.

So she let him. She understood.

His ragged breath cut across her skin making her shiver as he placed one more kiss over the scar, leaning his forehead into her for a long minute.

And then he was undoing the button of her pants and telling her to step out of her shoes.

In nothing more than a fairly utilitarian pale blue bra and panty set she turned in his arms, eyes blurring as he cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Will you sleep with me?"

"Yeah," she mouthed, understanding he needed to hold her, to be close, to be connected. She needed it too.

He reached behind her to drag the covers back, guiding her forward as she climbed in with no hesitation.

She lay down a little stiffly but before she could even settle her head on a pillow he had surrounded her, sliding in behind her and tugging her into his arms.

With a hum of contentment she discovered how comfortable his bicep was as she snuggled back into him. She couldn't resist giving an extra swing of her hips, pushing into him, grinning when a strong hand clamped down on her hip. "Behave," he growled low making her stomach swoop.

She kissed his arm in apology, eyes growing heavy as the hum of the plane under her and the security of Oliver around her blended together.

There was no way of knowing what awaited them in Nanda Parbat, but she knew they'd go into it with no regrets.

She was where she was supposed to be.


	26. 3x20-Promo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you have not seen the long promo for the remainder of the season do not read! Spoilers abound! For those of you who have seen it, you know exactly what this scene is and why I had to write it. There was also wine and some persuasion involved.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Rating for this series is now being bumped up to 'M'

It was like hot liquid swirling low in her belly. She couldn't keep her hips still, especially with his thumbs making those slow, torturous pulls across her upper thigh. He was only a scant few inches from her center and he knew it.

She'd always found him gorgeous, but lit by candlelight, laying against rich satin and velvet pillows she was certain she'd fallen into another world.

He looked completely at ease, somehow having pushed aside everything that lay before them. He was totally in the moment and she owed it to him, to them, to join him there.

With a slow twist of her hips she pushed into him, feeling him through the thin fabric of their pants. Then all it took was one swift flick of her fingers and her bra was falling down her arms.

His hands dug into her thighs, clenching and releasing, making her gasp as she placed her palms flat on his abs, hissing through her teeth at the contact.

It was everything she'd dreamed of and nothing like she'd imagined.

She'd touched him before. To bandage wounds. To help him when he was injured. But this was different.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, watching his eyes darken at the action. Slowly she slid her hands up, taking care to memorize each dip, each crevice, each ripple of muscle beneath her. She went from smooth, taut skin to the ragged ridges of scar tissue.

When her left palm paused over the newest scar, the one still pink and fresh, the one that had torn him away from her she couldn't move it away. Her other hand moved north as he continued that maddening assault so close to where she needed him.

The Bratva star stared back at her. Eight points, dark yet symbolic. Saying more with one glance than maybe any of the other marks on him.

She stroked once over the tattoo, fingers half tracing the design before falling backwards, catching his nipple with her nails. He jerked up into her making her fingers curl into him as she groaned and a flood of wetness filled her.

A whimper of need escaped her throat and as much as she wanted to take her time, to explore, to feel every inch of him, she didn't now if they could wait.

His hands were already skirting along the waistband of her pants, quickly finding the button, and, in a blink, he'd sat up long enough to strip the tight fabric from her legs, panties disappearing as well.

All it took was one palm to his chest and he lay back again, only the slightest of smirks quirking his mouth. He was enjoying this. He liked her being on top. He liked her pushing him back.

She liked it too.

He wrapped those strong, broad hands around her hips and tugged her forward until she hovered directly over his center. All it would take would be to lower herself a few centimeters and he'd know how wet she was.

One palm swept over her ass, squeezing, kneading, making her plant her hands on his chest once more to keep her balance.

Then he was swinging them sideways. His legs suddenly stretched along the bed as she tipped forward with a small squeak of surprise.

He took advantage of her new position by sucking one taut nipple into his mouth. She gasped as a shock went straight to her clit and she couldn't help the way her hips dropped, seeking contact, friction, relief.

A low almost feral noise came from him when she landed on him. His hands clamped tighter around her middle, pulling her towards him until she had no option but to scoot forward on her knees.

"I want to taste you," he growled and she almost came right then, looking down at him, her knees just under his arms on either side of his ribcage.

There was a fierceness in his expression, a single minded determination that let her know this was happening.

She answered by releasing his shoulders, reaching up to grab handfuls of wine colored drapery that surrounded the bed.

He shifted further down, forcing her legs wider apart, muscles protesting the new position until his mouth was right there and she forgot everything else.

A cry left her lips as his tongue swept through her folds, stroking around her clit and then back down, but not touching it. He lapped at her entrance as she squirmed above him, breaths coming in short, shallow pants.

Her head fell back and she clutched the curtains even tighter, but she couldn't still her movements, every flick of his tongue, every purse of his lips sent her spiralling higher.

His hands grasped just behind her thighs, working their way in until she could feel him spreading her wider, thumbs pressing into her entrance as his tongue suddenly attacked her clit.

She cried out loud and long, a string of unintelligible words that could have been his name or just 'yes' over and over again.

One long finger slid in slowly at first and then fast as he increased his attack on her clit. The coil in her belly gathered so quick there was almost no warning.

All it took was him adding another finger as he sucked. Hard.

There was a faint tearing sound to her left as she exploded, her legs clamping around his head and wave after wave of pleasure washed through her.

She floated in a haze for a few seconds, barely aware as he swept a sure hand across her lower back helping her come back down.

When she came back to herself she felt him moving below her and when she could command her hands to let go she saw half the drapes hanging from the posters of the bed from where she'd torn them down.

Slowly she moved down his chest, realizing when she hit his navel that he'd somehow gotten his pants off without her knowing.

The thick press of his erection pushed between her legs making her grin as he clenched his jaw, the strain to keep from surging up into her painted across his face.

She moved even slower, hands dragging over his shoulders, into his hair and down to cup his face.

The love she felt threatened to overwhelm her, it swelled inside her, something in her blood, her soul she couldn't deny and that she was done pretending didn't exist.

If this was all they had she wasn't going to squander it. She was going to revel.

His mouth was still wet with her release, her thumbs stroking over the rough stubble of his beard as she gazed down at him.

"I love you,"

"I love you," he replied, voice tight and rough, eyes wet. He felt it too, that almost desperate need to join, to become one, to lay claim before it was too late.

Before he could torture himself any more she widened her hips, sliding further down, the wet lips of her sex parting as he found home.

Their gazes never broke while he pushed into her. Slow. Controlled. Perfect.

He filled her completely, every nerve ending heightened.

When she was fully seated she raised herself carefully, hands resting low on his abdomen.

This was the moment she'd remember even when she couldn't remember her own name. His entire world was open to her just then. Open for her to take because she was his universe and he was hers.

No matter what happened, they had this. No one could take that away. She'd cling to it like her life depended on it.

Then his hand skimmed her ribs, settled on her hip, and she began to move.

It was slow. Easy.

It could have been frantic and passionate and powerful, but there was something very right about the way his eyes never left hers. About the way he kept repeating how much he loved her. About how she gasped his name. About the candlelight that flickered over the skin, casting shadows that didn't care where she ended and he began.

The orgasm built quietly, spreading through her veins like a comfortable warm blanket that she never wanted to let go of.

And then he broke. His face turned red, corded muscles standing out starkly from his neck and the regular easy rhythm they'd built fell apart.

He thrust upwards, powerful thighs driving his pelvis into her over and over again and she could only clutch his shoulders as he pounded into her.

He came with a shout that echoed off the stone walls, as he collapsed into the bed and drew her down atop him.

She lay against him, head tucked firmly under his chin, hands stroking over her back, across her ass, leaving her trembling as they both tried to catch their breaths.

Moving seemed too difficult a task and one she was happy to leave to him. When he shifted them to the side she curled into him until all she could see was the wide expanse of his chest and the arms he surrounded her with.

Tears pricked her eyes almost immediately and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

She wanted to tell him to not do it. To run away with her. To leave it all behind.

But he never would.

And she wouldn't either.

His hand cupped her head, shushing her as he pressed kisses to her temple.

They'd go forward no matter how badly it hurt because it was the only thing they could do.

She could only hope that somehow they'd come out the other side relatively unscathed.

They could survive anything. As long as they survived.


	27. 3x20-breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We still don't know exactly what happens on that jet. Here's just a little thing I came up with. Enjoy!

Swords.

One through his mother.

One through his sister.

One through him.

Oliver came awake in an instant. The violence of his dreams hidden and controlled, but he needed a moment to center himself and when his eyes opened again she sat across from him. Waiting.

He tried to take a breath but it caught in his chest, as if his ribs had broken inwards, serrated and sharp to catch everything inside; his heart, his life, the little he had left. And any chance he had of gaining control was taken.

The sound that tore past his lips was raw, destroyed, stripped bare as he folded forward.

It had all been stolen from him. His name, his title. He was no longer a son. No longer a hero. No longer a mentor. No longer a lover.

The only moniker he had left was brother and that now held on by only the slimmest of margins. Machines and a constant flow of medicine all that kept him from losing that as well.

Even on the island he’d never felt so lost, so helpless, and with familiar blue eyes watching he surrendered.

He didn’t remember sliding from the slick leather seat of the jet. He didn’t remember the way she called his name, high and worried. He didn’t remember how he crumpled to the floor, folding like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

He did remember that he was caught.

He did remember the feel of warm arms around him as he shook.

He did remember the thud of her heart beating beneath his ear.

He did remember the way she stroked his hair, and how her own tears mixed with his, and how she said his name over and over and over again. A reminder. An anchor. Something to cling to even if he didn’t know who he was anymore.

She knew.

She knew who he was.

She would be his strength.

She would be his home.

**  
  
**


	28. 3x20-Felicity vs. Ra's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is maybe more of a writing exercise. I've never written Ra's before and wanted to give his voice a shot (FYI-he is super fun to write for). I do not believe this is how the ep is going to go. Just something that was spurned on by the shot of Felicity and Ra's appearing to have some sort of face-off. But the Asia promo came out after I wrote this and...maybe I'm not too far off. :)
> 
> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Felicity entered the room, heart pounding, trepidation shaking her every step. She’d been summoned by the Demon himself and she had no idea why.

Ra’s was waiting, hands clasped behind his back, long black robe brushing the floor, and as the doors were shut behind her with a loud bang she couldn’t help the way she startled.

“Thank you for joining me.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice.” it slipped out before she could consider whether mouthing off to a deadly assassin was a good idea or not.

His head dipped slightly and she didn’t know if he found her amusing or if he’d just signaled someone hiding in the shadows to kill her.

But when a beat passed and then another and her head remained attached to her neck she thought it might have been the former.

“Before Al Saheem can go through his initiation he must be married.”

It was like she’d been struck in the chest. The shock must have shown on her face.

“I have called you here to inform you of your place and what will be expected of you.”

Her jaw fell open, hands and feet going numb because Ra’s al Guhl had just mentioned marriage and her and Oliver together as if there was some sort of connection.

“The marriage contract is merely ceremonial. But it is honored by the League, by myself and by those who will come after me.”

He paused and she suddenly found her voice in her too thick throat. “You want...you think I’m going to marry Oliver in order to help complete this game you’re playing.”

“Oh, it’s not a game. No, my dear. The Head will need heirs. The wife of the Head is chosen for her strength, her endurance. You possess those qualities as well as others.”

She stared at him, mouth set in a grim line as they considered each other from across the room.

“I’m helping him fulfill his destiny. But the woman who provides this...service is inconsequential, Ms. Smoak.” Ra’s said in that oily, unaffected voice that stated he had all the time in the world because the world revolved around him.

The realization of what he was implying rolled through her. “If you believe for one second that I will be a...a...broodmare for your league you could not be more wrong!” she spat back, hands clenched at her side in rage.

Ra’s gave a simple wave of his hand as he casually crossed to a small table, pouring a reddish liquid into a goblet, the robe falling back to show the gleaming hilt of his sword. “Like I said, the woman Al Saheem marries matters little to me. She will do her duties. I have had many, many wives and they have provided me with heirs.”

“Just not the heir you want. Nyssa would have gladly taken her place. Let her!”

The smirk he gave sent a shiver down her spine, “No.”

“It’s true that the love Al Saheem holds for his sister is what brought him here. But I believe it is a different love that will be the deciding factor in getting him to accept his future.”

“So you’re going to use me as blackmail then? Force his hand?”

“No, my dear, you misunderstand. I’m going to force yours.”

Again, it was the entirely calm, collected way he spoke that was so frightening. He was in complete control, master of all the strings, and he knew it.

“It is your love for him that will cause you to do exactly what I want.” Ra’s paused, setting the goblet back down and she was frozen to the spot as he approached her. When his fingers just caught her chin, tipping it upwards she fought the bile rising in her throat, “For if you do not he may not accept another and I will be forced to kill him.”

She wrenched herself away, fire and hate flashing in her eyes as she willed him dead before her, “You sick bastard! Killing him defeats your entire purpose!”

Ra’s opened his hands wide, “This is true. But I cannot allow him to win. There is only one acceptable outcome.”

Tears blurred her eyes, the heat from the torches and the sulphur smell from the pool at the end of the room making her stomach roll. Or maybe it was being in the presence of a monster.

“This is why you will agree. Because he will not refuse you. And the final, most damning way to sever Al Saheem from his past will be by giving him the woman he loves along with the knowledge that Oliver Queen can no longer have her.”

His words echoed in the stone lined chamber as their weight settled around her.

“The room has been prepared. Consider it my wedding gift. You will have one night before he will be transformed.”

Felicity shook her head slowly, mind whirling as she tried to comprehend what was happening. “You will never truly have him!” she hissed, “I know who he is! I believe in him! You will never take that.”

Ra’s half turned, and gave her a look of pity, “I already have. Oliver Queen is dead. Al Saheem has risen.”

**  
  
**


	29. 3x23-Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Pure speculation. Not sure I'm fully onboard the olicity wedding crazy train. But this idea would not let me go and I fell in love with it. How you enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Felicity made her way down the cracked concrete stairs, barely looking at where she was going, her eyes focused on the band of darkened metal that now sat on her left hand.

It was Oliver’s hand at her elbow that kept her safely on track and when they made it to the bottom she finally lifted her head to look at him with a wide smile.

“What?” he asked, the smile mirrored back at her, so broad she thought his cheeks must ache.

“I just...I saw these you know,” grasping his hand where a matching band was wrapped snugly around his fourth finger.

“I figured.”

“When you asked for what I had saved from the trunk...I hoped but...I never imagined.” she shook her head, still a little shell shocked at everything that had happened in the past few days.

“So you looked?” he sounded a little apprehensive, which after what they’d just done, what they’d been through seemed almost ridiculous.

She looked up at him through her lashes, head cocked to the side, “Of course I looked, Oliver.”

After he’d been arrested, after Roy’s plan had been worked out she knew she had to take what she could from the foundry. She’d backed up their files while Digg had wiped the place of everyone’s prints. The last thing she’d done was open his trunk, the one he’d brought back from Lian Yu. She removed the notebook, the vodka, and a small black pouch.

It hadn’t been until later that night that she’d pulled the thin drawstring. Two rings had tipped into her palm. One so large the smaller one fit inside it. The metal wasn’t silver, or gold. It was heavier, a steel alloy, with a hue that was so familiar her heart beat triple time in her chest.

She didn’t allow herself to look at them any closer. With a shaking hand she returned them to the bag, tucking it into her pocket. But she hadn’t been able to part from them. They took up permanent residence with her and when they took Thea back to Nanda Parbat the pouch ended up in her bag.

It was on the return trip, after it was all over that he’d asked for what she’d saved from the trunk. Silently she’d handed him the bag. He didn’t even open it. Just put it inside his jacket pocket.

Five minutes later he asked her to marry him.

They went straight from the airport to the courthouse.

The metal was warm when he slipped it onto her finger.

Jolted back into the present she watched his thumb rub over the ring, spinning it slightly. “When did you make them?” she asked, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she squinted up at him. The late afternoon sun was bright.

“Before I left for Nanda Parbat. The first time,” he added unnecessarily.

“Did you ever think we’d use them?”

“No.” he answered immediately, “I never…”

“You never thought you’d get your happy story.” she finished for him, hand coming up to cup his cheek.

The breath caught in his throat and all he could do was shake his head.

She shifted closer, until one of her feet slipped between his. Her flats left her at a distinct height disadvantage, but she didn’t care. This close to him, pressed against his chest as she stared up at him she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

“I’m your wife,” the words came out a little breathless and a lot amazed.

The look of pure, unadulterated joy that erupted across his face was worth it.

His hands captured her face, head dipping until his lips whispered against hers, “Yes, you are.”

“I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

He answered by kissing her within an inch of her life, mouth working over hers until she could only cling to his shirt, knowing he’d hold her up.

When he pulled back he lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her ring, “Ready to get out of here?”

She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” he answered enigmatically, only making her curiosity rise.

He took his hand in hers, leading her down the sidewalk to a silver, convertible sports car that sat empty at the curb.

“No actual horses, but I hope it’ll do as a chariot.” he said with a wolfish grin and a nod to the Porsche that made a streak of heat go straight to her core.

“Is this…”

“Mine? Ours?” he asked as he opened the door, nodding for her to slide onto the supple leather seat, “Yes. I didn’t lose everything.”

When he slid into the drivers seat the sight made her stomach flip, and when the dark sunglasses made their way onto his face she licked her lips, swallowing hard.

“And you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No, Mrs. Queen, I’m not.”

The pure, joyous smile she saw directed at her was enough to keep her curiosity at bay.

For now.

**  
  
**


	30. 3x23-Porsches and Sunsets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's some smutty smutty Porschesmut. Inspired by the spoilers of riding off into the sunset in a Porsche. NSFW!
> 
> Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

They’d been on the road for only half an hour but she hadn’t stopped asking him where they were going. “It’s a surprise,” he kept promising her, but that only made her more curious. When she pulled out a tablet and began trying to calculate where their route might take them he snatched it from her hands, tucking it behind his seat and out of sight, laughing at her half hearted attempts to retrieve the device.

“Just enjoy the ride.”

“I am.” she said with a fake pout, settling back into her seat and adjusting the flowy skirt she wore. The one that showed quite the expanse of lightly tanned skin and made him want to skim his fingers over the surface. “But I’d enjoy it more if I knew where we were going.”

“For once how about you let me give the directions.”

“I thought you liked it when I was in your ear?” she threw back with a naughty smirk.

“Thought you liked it when I was in you.” he returned, knowing without looking that her cheeks had turned pink.

For a few miles there was nothing but the roar of the wind and the zip of the coastline going by. He chanced a look her direction seeing her staring off, lips turned up in a smile.

“What?”

She pulled whipping hair out of her face and just smiled again, “Nothing.”

“Felicity…” he drawled out, each syllable dropping into the next along with his register, knowing how much she liked it when his voice got deeper.

The little shudder she gave had nothing to do with the wind.

“I’m just...happy.”

He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm, unable to contain his grin. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Her fingers gripped his tight as they rested back along the center console, the setting sun beginning to spray the sky with oranges and yellows. “I’m happy too.”

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” she teased, but instead of feeling self-conscious his heart swelled in his chest. The love he felt for her so broad and so full he thought it might break through his ribs.

“You make me happy. You make me want to be happy.”

“You deserve to be happy, Oliver.”

“We deserve to be happy.”

She gave a low chuckle, “I’m not going to disagree with you there.”

“Do you regret--”

“I don’t regret a thing.” she cut him off quick and sure, “We’re here because this was the path we had to take. And we’re stronger for it.”

There was a thickness in his throat he wasn’t used to, his left hand tightening on the steering wheel as he tried to swallow past it.

He focused on the road, the purr of the engine beneath them, how there were hardly any other cars around them. The smooth transition from one gear to another as the blacktop began to wind around the hills that jutted into the ocean.

“So...all that shifting...that takes, both hands?” she sounded innocent, but the way she paused between words and the emphasis she put on ‘both’ made his cock twitch unexpectedly.  

He slid a glance her way just in time to see her release the seat belt, shifting her weight to her left hip.

The stretch of road they were coming up on was curvy and hilly meaning he had no choice but to keep his eyes on the road and when her hot palm slid across the top of his thigh he knew exactly what she was up to.

“Felicity…”

“Shhh, you need to concentrate, right?”

“You--” a sharp breath hissed through his teeth as she rose to her knees, sliding her lips along his jaw for a second as her nimble fingers inched their way to the closure of his pants.

He’d gone from half erect, to fully aroused in a heartbeat it seemed, straining at the zipper that she was already lowering.

“I trust you to keep us from crashing,” she said with an amused lilt, and then her hand was on him, pulling his ready cock from the confines of his boxers.

“God, Felicity!” the steering wheel protested the pressure he gripped it with but before he could try and pull away he was working the clutch as they went around a sharp corner.

Her head bumped into his chest as he wrapped his right hand around her forearm to steady her before he had to shift again.

His eyes flicked to the side, the now terribly short skirt she wore fluttering in the breeze as her ass stuck up in the seat next to him. If it had been a two lane road anyone on their right would have been able to see everything.

The feel of her soft hand wrapped around him made his vision threaten to white out, but there was another corner and he had no choice but to guide the car.

She was kind enough to wait until he’d made the turn before she put her mouth on him.

His foot came down too hard on the brake as a string of curses flew out in a rush.

He swore he felt her smile around him.

She was balanced against his chest, her shoulder pressed into his sternum as her hair fell like a tangled curtain around his lap. One hand massaged his balls as her tongue slowly circled the head of his cock. She was behaving as if they were in bed with all the time in the world, and not racing down the road at sixty miles per hour.

The hand he had on the gear shift flexed, the back of his arm pressed into her middle as she bent over him. He had to grit his teeth, trying to concentrate on his breathing and not crossing the center line again as she sucked him deeper, the wet sounds and the contented hum she made somehow heard over the wind.

There was a tingling sensation beginning low in his spine, hips twitching as he fought the push to thrust into her mouth. She took one more long pull, his head falling back against the seat with a thud.

The honk of a horn as he turned another corner having to veer hard to the right to avoid the car in the other lane was the final straw.

With a growl he pumped the brakes, spying a pulloff twenty yards ahead. Gravel spun beneath the tires as they left the paved surface for that of the access road, but Felicity didn’t so much as lift her head much less stop the steady rhythm she’d seemingly committed to.

As soon as he’d pulled far enough off the main road that he could no longer see it he threw the Porsche into park, lifting her off of him in one swift motion.

Her face was flushed, eyes bright, lipstick smeared. He didn’t need to look down to know where he’d find the rest of it.

His mouth was half opened, ready to growl out how dangerous she had been. Then the tip of her pink tongue shot out to trace along her top lip and he was hauling her into his lap.

One hand threaded through her hair, the other gripping tight at her waist as she settled against him, two thin layers of fabric keeping them separate as she rocked her hips into his.

Her mouth was open beneath his, his tongue stroking hers almost savagely. The moan he drew from her reverberating from her chest into his.

She was moving on top of him, drawing one leg up higher almost desperately before she tore back. “This car is too damn small!”

He pushed up, arm banding around her waist and without even bothering to release the door handle he hitched her higher until her legs wrapped about his hips, pushing his bare cock into the cradle of her pelvis.

There was no precision or fluidity as he clambered over the side of the car. His face was buried in her neck, sucking the spot beneath her ear that made her gasp his name.

Once he had both feet on the ground he turned until he could sit her on the edge of the hood. Her hands clutched his shoulders, chest heaving against his as his now free hands delved under her skirt.

He didn’t bother pulling the pale pink underwear he’d seen her put on that morning off. Instead he tugged it to the side, sliding one finger through her folds to find her drenched. Her back bowed so far the crown of her head almost touched the silver of the hood.

“Oliver!” it was a plea, a command, and he was helpless to ignore her call.

He pushed into her in one smooth move, heels digging into his ass as she pulled him closer into her.

The world fell away when he was surrounded by her. It didn’t matter that they were in the open. Didn’t matter that they could be caught at any second. Didn’t matter that he was taking her on the hood of the Porsche.

His entire world had tunneled down to how hot she was around him, how he could feel her flutter and pulse as he drove into her, how she went from crying his name to barely being able to draw a full breath.

Her head came up, their eyes locking and she was rocking back against him as hard as he was driving into her.

The build up was quick. Her shoulders hunched forward, mouth dropping open as he climbed higher and higher.

When she clamped around him, shuddering and gasping he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He came with a shout, hips moving erratically into hers as she shook against him.

Lips moved softly from his temple to his cheek, dropping tiny little kisses along a trail only she was aware of. When she reached his mouth he kissed her lazily as they allowed their breaths to even out.

“You just had sex with me on the hood of your car.” she said in mock accusation, hands stroking down his chest.

All he could do was pull back to give her a look, “After what you did?”

One shoulder lifted innocently, but the Cheshire smile she had betrayed any bit of innocence she was trying to pass off.

Reluctantly he pulled out of her, both of them making noises of protest. She straightened her skirt as he tucked himself back into his pants, not missing the proud look she projected.

“So...are you still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

He laughed.

“After what you just did?”

She adjusted her glasses, batting long lashes at him, “I was just trying to...encourage you.”

He tugged her towards him, off the hood and into his arms, “I think you were causing trouble.”

She sighed, turning her head away, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.”

“Oliver!”

He laughed again, towing her around the front of the car back over to the passenger side. He made sure his lips grazed her ear as he opened the door, leaning down to help her in, “Behave for the next hour.”

When he stood he gave her a wink, giving himself an imaginary point as she almost visibly melted into the seat.

Arms crossed stubbornly in front of her he got back behind the wheel. “You really won’t tell me anything?”

“Nope.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

They both paused because even though she’d said more times than he could count it still sounded new and special.

“I am. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

The smile she gave him was all he’d ever need. He wasn’t lying when he’d told her he never thought they’d be here. His wildest dreams had never allowed him this. Had never allowed him happiness.

But his dreams had never conjured someone as amazing as Felicity.

She’d turned his world around the moment he’d met her and as they pulled back onto the road, the setting sun painting the sky ahead of them he knew she’d never stop.

 


	31. 3x20-spec fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Blame this one on scu11y22 wondering if anyone had written about Felicity going to get packed before they leave for NP. It made my muse lift her head. However, as these things go, it’s not so much about Felicity packing and more about the time between the clip that was released earlier today and them getting to the airport. And maybe theres the Ray/Felicity breakup scene thrown in for good measure. Hope thats okay. 
> 
> Thanks to hopedreamlovepray for putting eyes on it while I picked my kid up from dance and assuring me it wasn’t total crap since I wrote it in a hot second. 
> 
> Enjoy!!!

“It’s _Thea_ ”

Oliver’s eyes locked on hers and the room faded away for just second. She knew everything he wasn’t saying because he’d already said it. Nothing had changed since that night he’d left for Nanda Parbat the first time.

_He’d do anything for his sister._

She couldn’t allow herself to complete the rest of the sentence. The whispered _‘I love you’_ she heard in her dreams would creep up on her during the day as well if she wasn’t careful.

With a hard swallow she nodded once, John’s huff of disbelief jerking her back to the present.

“Okay.” she said, hardly louder than a breath, “Okay, but this time you’re not going alone and that is non-negotiable.”

Digg shifted forward at that, his arm brushing hers as they provided a united front and she watched as Oliver surrendered.

Her eyes pricked with tears that had been close to the surface ever since she’d gotten his phone call an hour earlier. He’d sounded destroyed as she’d coaxed the information from him. Barely breathing when he told her that Thea was on life support and not expected to survive.

How much else could he lose?

She remembered telling Ray she had to go, waving off his offer of a ride because she was already calling Digg to come pick her up.

Hearing talk of magical pools of water that brought back the dead was something she never thought she could believe in. But this was Starling City and she’d lived through a lot in the past three years.

She’d expected Oliver to fight her. To tell her she couldn't go. To tell her he had to do this alone. But instead he just let his head bow once and then looked up at her through sad, lidded eyes.

Surprised by his acquiescence she felt a babble of words rise within her, hands coming up as she motioned to the bag he’d been packing.

“So...you’re all ready to go. But I’m not and neither is Digg. And we’re going to need special equipment for Thea. And a plane, we’re definitely going to need a plane.”

Oliver’s expression seemed to glaze over and she reached out to lay a hand along his arm, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take care of it.”

“I can provide--” Malcolm said quickly, her head whipping to the left to level him with a glare.

“I will take care of it.” she bit out, each word punctuated. Merlyn was the reason all of this had happened.

The air stilled in the loft, the faint metallic trace of blood still lingering and when Merlyn didn’t continue she turned back to Oliver.

“Make the arrangements for Thea to be transported. I’ll meet you at the airport in an hour.”

“Felicity…” his voice shook on the last syllable and it took everything within her not to throw her arms around his neck.

All she could do was squeeze his arm one more time, heading for the door, knowing that if she looked back she’d be lost.

Her phone was in her hand ready to dial Ray’s number when Digg caught her elbow, “Felicity-”

“Don’t, John. I know what I’m doing.” she said without looking at him.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

She didn’t answer, instead she pushed call as she climbed into Digg’s car.

“Ray! I need your plane.”

_“You sure you don’t need the helicopter again, I just had it detailed.”_

“No. The plane, please I know it’s a lot to ask and if I had any other options but…”

Ray was quiet for a long beat, _“This has to do with why you ran out of here isn’t it? It’s about Oliver?”_

The inhale caught in her chest, “It’s...a long story. But yes, it’s about Oliver.”

He was quiet again, but when he answered there wasn’t a hint of derision in his voice, _“Of course you can have the plane.”_

“Thank you! Is an hour too soon? I don’t know how long it takes planes to get ready. We’ll need a lot of gas, it’s a...it’s a long flight.”

_“It’ll be ready.”_

“Ok, I...I’m sorry for leaving so quick I’ll...I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” she forced a small laugh that she knew he wouldn’t believe, because she didn’t know when or if they’d be back. She had no idea what would happen.

_“Just get there safely, that’s all I’ll ever ask.”_ he sounded resigned, without the spark she usually heard in his voice, but before she could ask him if anything was wrong she realized the line had disconnected.

Slowly her hand fell away from her face, thumb moving to turn off the phone automatically.

“Felicity. We’re here.”

Her head flew up to see Digg was parked outside her place.

“Oh! Sorry, I…”

“Just get your things, I’ll be waiting.”

“But you need...Lyla and...baby Sara…”

Their eyes met and she knew they were both considering just how badly this could all go.

“We’re good, and I’ve got a go bag in the trunk.”

“Okay,” she licked her lips nervously, grabbing her purse, “I’ll be fast.”

Twenty minutes later she was heading back out, small black overnight bag in one hand. She’d shucked the stilettos and tight skirt for pants and low-heeled boots, knowing the long flight ahead of them wouldn’t be comfortable, even in a luxury jet.

Digg nodded his approval as she tossed her bag in the back seat and joined him. She’d purposely distracted herself while she was hurrying around her place, selecting only the bare necessities. She couldn’t allow herself to think about Oliver. Not just then.

“Oliver texted, the medical transport will have Thea here in fifteen.” Digg said as they drove through the gate of the private airport.

Felicity twisted her fingers together, biting her lip as they made their way across the mostly empty tarmac. “Do you think this pit is real? Do you think it’ll bring her back? And what about what Malcolm said?”

Digg just sighed, “I’d heard the rumors for...years before I even knew who Ra’s al Ghul was. Oliver says it exists, that it’s real. That’s good enough for me.”

She nodded once, stiffly, “Yeah. It’s good enough for me too.”

Digg pulled the car to a stop near an open hangar, a shiny white jet already sitting out with the stairs down.

“Guess that’s our ride,”

“Since Palmer’s right over there I guess you’re right.”

Felicity climbed from the car, making sure to grab her bag before she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and approached Ray.

“Hey, you didn’t...thank you for coming.” she smiled, but he didn’t move any closer, didn’t make any move to touch her.

“Felicity...I...I came to say thank you and to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? Wha--”

“I saw something tonight. The past few days actually and...you know how my brain likes to work on lots of different things at once, well, one of the things it was working on was this. And I saw something tonight that made all the pieces fit together.”

She cocked her head to the side, confusion filling her, “What did you see?”

“I saw two people very much in love with each other who are staying apart for very noble but ultimately very stupid reasons.”

Her mouth went dry, a white noise rushing through her ears.

“When I lost Anna...I knew that if I found that sort of love again I’d never let it go. Not for anything. You and Oliver, you have that sort of love, and I cannot be the guy that stands in your way.”

“Ray--” her heart thudded in her chest as his words swirled around her.

“It’s okay. I need...I need more time I think. Time for me and time for my suit. Oliver taught me a lesson I needed. I can’t rely on just the tech. But, you have to know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You’re brilliant.”

“Oh god, Ray...I…”

“It’s okay. I’m not upset.” he said almost offhandedly, and then paused, “Well, maybe I’m a tiny bit upset. I know I told you I loved you with a little ‘l’ but I...I was on the way to it being a big ‘L’ I’m pretty sure.”

She sniffled back a sob, “I’m so sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you won’t waste any more time. I don’t know what this is about or where you’re going but I will always care about you and if you ever need anything you know where to find me.”

She nodded furiously, not trusting her voice until after she’d swallowed past the lump in her throat several times. “I don’t deserve this.”

His hand brushed along her cheek just once, “Of course you do.”

Ray’s sad eyes held hers and then he blinked, stepping back and breaking the mood, “And you can totally still borrow the plane. Same rules apply as the chopper though.”

“Oh no. I can’t.” she protested, mind whirling because she wasn’t sure what had just happened other than she thought maybe Ray had broken up with her and told her to be with Oliver.

“Yes, you can. I won’t take no for an answer.” he took another step back, shoving his hands in his pocket, “And don’t worry, I told HR you were taking a sabbatical, duration indefinite.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, because she had no idea what else she could say.

“Goodbye, Felicity Smoak.”

“Goodbye, Ray.”

Flashing red and white lights spun around the inside of the hangar and when she turned she saw Oliver and Digg waiting for the ambulance.

It wasn’t until she’d reached Oliver’s side, hand slipping into the crook of his arm, pressed as close as she could to provide whatever silent support he needed that she realized the entire time she’d talked to Ray-- she’d been holding her bag in her hand.

**  
**  
  



	32. 3x20-Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is going to have feels. But hopeful feels. I hope. :) Set as Felicity is walking away from Oliver. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The mile long walk to the plane was over before she knew it. Somehow she’d followed the path, unseeing, unfeeling because her heart had been left a few thousand feet behind her.

It was a surprise when she blinked and looked up to see the jet sitting there, stairs down with John waiting at the bottom.

His eyes were low and sad and that more than anything made a sudden warmth race up her neck as tears made her vision blurry.

He reached for her when she was still steps away, giving her time to flash her hand up, “Don’t, John, please...if you touch me I’ll fall apart and I can’t do that right now.”

“Okay,” he replied tightly, hand clenching in a fist as it dropped back to his side. She wrapped one arm around her middle, clutching the rail tightly as she climbed the stairs.

Malcolm was getting Thea settled into a seat when she made her way into the cabin but she barely spared them a glance. They’d get Thea back to Starling. She’d make sure that Oliver’s sister would be safe. But just then Felicity didn’t have anything left to give.

No one bothered her as she headed to the rear of the plane, sinking heavily into a seat as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any real sleep. They’d been going for days on end, catching a few hours here and there, and it was now hitting her all at once.

A memory came unbidden causing her heart to clench in want and pain. She hadn’t slept earlier, but Oliver had.

They hadn’t known how long they had but despite that nothing had felt hurried or rushed. Time had seemed to have bent to their will for once and as they lay there amongst the red and gold linens she’d felt content and safe and happy even if they were in Nanda Parbat.

For just a little while nothing else mattered, the world had fallen away and they were just able to be Oliver and Felicity.

They’d talked and touched, both of them needing the reassurance and the reminders that they were really there. She was warm and loved, a smile permanently etched on her face as she watched Oliver’s eyes begin to droop, the path he’d been drawing up and down her ribs slowing until it stopped altogether and when the first gentle snore broke the silence she’d never felt more at peace.

For an hour she lay as still as possible just watching him sleep. He didn’t move, the exhaustion and stress he’d pushed himself to showing in the strain around his eyes. But slowly he looked relaxed, at ease, calm, something she hadn’t seen in him in so long she’d almost forgotten what it looked like.

That’s when she came up with her plan. As she lay there in the dark with the soft sounds of Nanda Parbat reaching her through the open balcony and the flames from the hundreds of candles continued to throw flickering shadows around the room, she knew she couldn’t give him up without a fight.

The words Ra’s had said to her echoed in her head but in her soul she knew he was wrong. There was always another way. She refused to live in a world where Oliver was forced to give up everything that made him the man she loved.

It was crazy and risky and could very possibly lead to their deaths. She had no tech and no plan but what she did know was that Oliver would not go willingly, he’d already sacrificed himself for his sister, for him there was no way out.

When he woke up he did so in an instant, eyes springing open, clear and aware. But when they landed on her they softened. “Hey,” he’d whispered in that soft tone that always made her toes curl.

He’d pressed one more quiet kiss to her lips and then rolled from the bed. She made her way to the opulent bathroom, finding a robe in her size hanging on the back of the door. She didn’t want to know who thought to place it there.

Hands shaking she grabbed her jacket and a small vial of the powder she’d seen the priestess use to subdue Thea earlier. Oliver was dressed and on the balcony when she moved out of view and grabbed up a decanter and two glasses, dumping the vial into one glass before she could second guess herself.

She couldn’t lose him.

It was a mantra playing through her head, establishing a new cadence for her heart to beat to.

It was that thought that made her follow through. That didn’t let her flinch when he fell to the floor in a heap. That directed her to get dressed as quickly as she could, even pulling on his socks and boots, grateful he’d put his own clothes on before she’d knocked him out. Then she’d gotten Digg and Malcolm and for a few minutes she thought they’d had a chance.

And then it had all gone to hell and he was saying goodbye.

But not the actual words because neither of them could do that again.

As the plane lifted off she turned away from the window, unable to watch him disappear beneath her.

She wasn’t going to give up.

Ra’s might have not fought for his family, but she would.

She would get Oliver back.

She would bring him home too.

Her threats hadn’t been mere posturing, or the hysterical empty words of a woman in love. She had a backbone of steel and if she needed to bring a war to the doorstep of the Demon’s Head then war she would bring.

Even if the Demon’s Head was Oliver himself.

**  
  
**


	33. 3x23-Gear Shifts and Gulfstreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is part of the 'Porschesmut' universe I sort of accidentally started with the two previous Season 3 drabbles titled-'Rings', and 'Porsches and Sunsets'. So definitely consider them connected. Enjoy!

Felicity idly rubbed a spot on her neck that itched from Oliver’s stubble. She knew there would be a red blotch there for at least another twenty minutes, smiling to herself because this was something she now knew. She knew exactly how long it took to get rid of Oliver’s Queen’s beard burn.

He’d been quiet since their not so impromptu stop along the highway. That thought made her grin as a tingle of desire made its way to her still very aware center. A flush crept across her cheeks. She’d have to remember to do it again if that’s the reaction she got from him.

“Feeling proud of yourself?” he asked suddenly, causing her to whip her head to the left, hair flying in her face as she hastily tucked it behind her ear.

“Maybe a little.” she answered cheekily, glancing out at the water and the sun that was finishing its descent behind the mountains.

“You really won’t tell me where we’re going? You know I hate mysteries.” The fake pout in her voice didn’t sway him though.

Oliver just laughed, hand enveloping hers, his thumb seeming to automatically find her ring and give it a small spin. She hoped that became a thing, their thing. Just thinking about it made her heart swell in her chest.

“If you could have kept your hands to yourself then we would have stopped at an overlook in a few miles to watch the sun set over the water. But since someone couldn’t behave we’ll have to skip that part and go on to the next.”

“Oh, Oliver...I’m--” then she stopped herself as he lifted one eyebrow, “Yeah, no...I’m not going to apologize for that.”

He grunted a reply, hand slipping from hers to return to the gear shift, taking an exit that put them on another road that wove through the hills instead of along the coast.

She watched the trees whizzing by, the low light of dusk only allowing her to see a few yards around them. The night was still warm and the breeze pleasant but not chilly. “Are we...are we going back the way we came?” she turned to look behind them, hoping to catch sight of a road sign or something to let her know where they were. She was still annoyed that Oliver had confiscated her tablet.

“Felicity…”

With a sigh she sat back, “Fine, but this better be good, Queen.”

And then the bastard she had called husband for less than three hours turned and winked at her.

The road twisted and turned through old growth forest and when they were finally approaching the city again she was more than confused.

Oliver had been holding her hand for the last few miles, the straight road and steady speed in his favor.

“You ready to know the secret?”

The streets were familiar now, the skyline of Starling City rising in front of them.

“We’re back in the city. I thought we were going somewhere?”

He took another turn and she realized they were almost back to the private airport they’d landed at earlier that afternoon.

As they drove through the gate and approached the hangar the same Gulfstream sat waiting, bright blue ‘QI’ on the tail for the newly minted Queen Inc. that Walter was finishing the paperwork for.

Once the car was stopped and turned off he turned to her taking both her hands in his, “We’re going on our honeymoon,” he said with a grin that showed his dimples, “But...before we leave I just...I really wanted to drive down the highway with the top down, and you by my side, watching the sun set over the water.”

Tears pricked her eyes because it was the simplest thing and to most people something they would take for granted, but for Oliver it was something he never thought he would get to experience.

“Oh, Oliver,” she breathed out, wondering if she’d ever truly understand the depth of love she felt for him. “I love you.”

He leaned forward, mouth teasing hers, softly sucking her bottom lip between his. For a moment they just breathed the same air, content to share the same space.

She was breathing hard when he pulled away, turning into his hand as he stroked her cheek, tucking a fall of snarled hair behind her ear.

“Should have gone with the ponytail,” her hand covered his for a second as she did her best to smooth the tangled strands.

“You look beautiful.”

“You’re obligated to say that, you’re my husband now.”

Any chance she thought she had that she could say those words and not have a stupid smile erupt across her face was destroyed. She’d never get tired of it.

“Even if I wasn’t your husband--” he paused as if savoring the word, “I would still think you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes darted to the plane and then back, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going then?”

He gave her a knowing look and then a smirk before opening the door to climb out.

“Oliver!” she protested, fumbling with the handle to follow but he rushed around the front to beat her to it.

Gallantly he took her hand, making sure to bring it to his mouth, lips brushing over the top, lingering on her ring. “Let me do this.”

It was the quiet, earnest tone that made her melt, leaning forward as he gathered her into his chest. She had to swallow hard as she tucked her head beneath his chin. She was privy to something she wasn’t sure she’d ever see; an Oliver Queen who not only wanted a future, but who wanted a happy one and was making it happen. If that meant he took delight in keeping their honeymoon a surprise who was she to take that away from him.

“Okay,” she murmured quietly, pressing small kisses along his throat until he growled low, pulling back.

“If you keep that up we’re not going to make our flight.”

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him over the rim of her glasses, “Really? Your name is on the side of the plane.”

“Our name,” he stressed and she nodded. That was going to take some getting used to.

“Come on,” the tug on her hand was strong, keeping her right by his side as they made their way back to the plane.

Just as they reached the stairs he stopped and scooped her up, making her squeal as she grasped his shoulders, his chest rising with a laugh as he began to climb.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Carrying my bride over the threshold.” he said simply, as if it couldn’t have possibly been anything else.

She threw her head back and laughed, playfully swatting his back, “Oliver! That’s for houses or hotel rooms at the very least.”

“Well...this is going to be a long flight and there is a bedroom in the back of the plane.”

Her mouth went dry at his tone, “Oh, well then, don’t let me stop you. It is tradition after all.”

He actually paused at the top to talk to the pilot, still holding her as if she weighed nothing. The one flight attendant gave her a warm smile that she fought to return without turning ten shades of red.

“Enjoy the flight Mr. and Mrs. Queen.” the pilot said before returning to the cockpit and her stomach flipped again just like it had at the courthouse when she’d heard those words for the first time.

Oliver had to turn slightly to the side as he continued into the center of the plane. “You know we’re inside now, you can put me down.”

He made a noise of disagreement, keeping a steady pace until they came to a small seating area, two sets of seats facing each other with a small table in between.

Oliver sat her down first, making sure to kiss her before he moved back to sit next to her.

“Champagne, Mr. Queen?” the flight attendant asked, Oliver’s eyes moving to hers asking silently if she wanted any.

“Yes, please.” Felicity replied enthusiastically.

“Right away, Mrs. Queen.”

She was on her second glass by the time they were in the air, snuggled into Oliver’s side with a pleasant tingling going through her body.

“Cold?” he asked, hand rubbing up and down her arm.

She leaned forward to place the glass on the table, turning further into him, “No, I’m good.”

He didn’t listen, instead he slipped his arms underneath her, lifting her into his lap. “Well just in case.”

She smiled, dropping her head to his chest, “You do seem to make an excellent blanket.”

At the mention of blankets the hand that had been trailing up and down her bare thigh under her skirt stuttered for a second before resuming it’s path.

They were both remembering that conversation on the plane to Nanda Parbat. It had only been a month ago but it felt like forever.

“You remember that story I told you, about Thea.” his voice got hung up for a second at the mention of his sister, “About...how I’d come back once while I was gone.”

She nodded, hand laying just over his heart, wanting to hear what he would tell her, but also hurting for the memories it would drag up for him.

“You said you had seen her.” she omitted the part where he’d killed Thea’s dealer, that wasn’t something she needed to bring up.

“Well...she wasn’t the only one I saw.”

“Who else? Tommy? Or Laurel?”

“You.”

For a minute she was confused, sitting up and twisting slightly so she could look at him face on. “Oliver, we didn’t meet until you came back, three years ago.”

“We didn’t meet.” he agreed, “But I saw you.”

At her dumbstruck expression he continued, “I had to...get into the system at QC through my mother’s computer in her office. I had just finished up when...you walked in. You were...mesmerizing. There was just something about you. I couldn’t hear everything you said but I did hear you talk to my picture.”

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as it dropped open in shock, “Oh my god!” it had been five years ago but she did vaguely remember that night. She definitely remembered walking out of Moira’s Queen office wondering what someone would think if they had overheard her.

He just smiled, soft and for her, gently tugging her wrists until her hands were in her lap, tangled with his. “Nothing was good then. But you...for just a brief moment, you brought a light into my life. One I hadn’t had for a very long time.”

“When did you know? Is that why you came to see me with the laptop?”

“No. I didn’t really remember until after we met. I asked Walter for a recommendation in the IT department and he sent me to you.”

She squeezed his hands, ducking her head to press it back into the hollow of his shoulder, “I’m glad he did.”

“Me too,”

They sat quietly, both lost in thought as the hum of the plane’s engines provided the only source of sound.

“You still not going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked lightly, lips beginning to work a path from the bottom of his throat up to his jaw line.

His hands grasped her harder, digging into the flesh of her hip and thigh, shifting her higher against him. “Nope,”

With that she flicked her tongue out, sucking a spot right where the stubble ended, feeling him begin to stir beneath her.

“Well, you’d better show me the bedroom then.”

**  
  
  
  
  
**


End file.
